To be honest, I’d never heard of Bad Bunny until this year’s Super Bowl. And I had carelessly confused Kid Rock with Chris Rock, so I was mildly surprised to discover that Kid Rock is a country rock music star instead of a Black comic.

But my oblivious ignorance of these artists is, in no way, a criticism of their popularity or their talent, which was on display on Feb. 8. They were the principals in competing halftime shows for the Super Bowl. Yes, we’re a nation so divided that one of our most prominent communal occasions—the Super Bowl—has to have two halftime shows!

First, Bad Bunny: I’ll concede that my knowledge of and appreciation for rap is limited. But the quality of Bad Bunny’s show at the Super Bowl is obvious, even to a non-fan like me.

The production was gorgeous: an acre or two of cane fields, exotic street vendors and shopkeepers (presumably Puerto Rican), domino players (Cuban?), energetic choreography, colorful bands, pyrotechnics, a marriage proposal, a real wedding and Lady Gaga.

The thread that held the show together was Bad Bunny’s rapping narrative, which, even though it’s not exactly my style, sounded great. So, what’s not to like?

Plenty, according to President Donald Trump, who called the performance “absolutely terrible,” “one of the worst ever” and “an Affront to the Greatness of America.”

Trump added: “Nobody understands a word this guy is saying,” which makes one wonder if Trump ever goes to the opera.

My Spanish isn’t very good, so I didn’t understand most of what Bad Bunny said, either. But the 50 to 60 million Americans who speak Spanish, and millions more around the world, did. And everybody understood Mr. Bunny when he said, “God bless America.” Even Trump.

And then there was Kid Rock’s Turning Point USA halftime show, presented as an alternative for Americans who had already decided that they don’t like Bad Bunny.

It began with a guitar solo of the national anthem reminiscent of Jimi Hendrix at Woodstock, strident, unmelodious and cacophonous. I prefer a more traditional rendering of the “Star-Spangled Banner,” but it’s a free country.

Then the burly, tattooed Brantley Gilbert announced emphatically: “This is real America!”

What’s “real” America, as opposed, I guess, to the “unreal” America represented by the simultaneous halftime show on another channel?

For one thing, the Real America is extremely countryified. The America that Gilbert, Lee Brice, Gabby Barrett and Kid Rock describe is a place where Real Americans get up “when the rooster crows.” Where “I just wanna drive my truck, catch my fish, drink my beer…cut my grass, feed my dogs, wear my boots” and so on.

It’s a place where people like to drink: “nice cold beer sitting in the console”; “Sometimes I drink too much”; “I belong to the drinking class.”

Real Americans are somewhat belligerent: “Boy, I have to knock your loud mouth out”; “you better throw the first punch and whip his ***”

But, at the same time, somewhat defensive and aggrieved: “If you knock us down we’ll get back up again”; “It ain’t easy being country in this country nowadays.”

In Real America, “Jesus reigns down south”; if you dust off that unread Bible and give your life to Jesus “he’ll give you a second chance.”

This all sounds a little phony to me. How many Americans actually live this sort of countryified life these days? How many of us spend our days fishin’ and huntin’ and threatenin’ to throw the first punch and whip other people’s *****?

Some of us do, I guess. But the Real America described in the alternative halftime show is largely mythological. Bad Bunny’s America, on the other hand, is really real and has room for brown and Black people, Jews and Muslims, LGBTQ+, immigrants and even good ol’ country boys. Why can’t we have both?

Besides, even if Kid Rock really does get up every morning when the rooster crows and read his Bible every day, we still face this question: Why is his America any more real than Bad Bunny’s?

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