I just read a wonderful post by Aunt Becky at Mommy Wants Vodka and she mentioned in passing the band Milli Vanilli which reminds me of how much I LOVED them. I loved them so much that when I was a teenager (I might have been 20), Jonelle, Tonya and I rented a station wagon, drove to the Twin Cities and saw them in concert. We were pretty close to the front. I wanted SO BADLY to be the lucky lucky girl to go up on stage and have Rob (or was it Fab?) *sing* Blame It On The Rain directly to me. That would have been so wonderfully great.
This makes me think of all the times people have told me I have terrible taste in music. Puh-lease. Milli Vanilli, although total frauds, were good. Of course, I mean the people that actually sang the songs were good. They were probably fat middle aged white guys though so, you know, not so nice to look at for the teenage girl audience.
I also love the song Ballroom Blitz by Sweet and if that's wrong, I don't want to be right.
Queen is another favorite mostly because of the music, but also because nobody could pull off a white, chestless unitard quite the way Freddy Mercury could. I'm almost positive it wouldn't look good on anyone I know.
Not many people can pull this look off. Could you?
This brings me to my music nemesis. Tom Waits. Ugh. I hate him because he's supposed to be good and he's not good. I'm convinced he became popular because of a series of dares. Somebody was at a bar one night and heard him *sing* and tried to be pompous for their friend and said, "I like him, he's really good." And the other guy couldn't believe what he was hearing but didn't want to be outdone and said, "Oh, me too, he's wonderful," then the first guy said, "You do not!" and the second guy said, "Yes I do, I'm going to go buy his album right now." and the first guy said, "Oh yeah? Well, I'm going to buy two albums, give one away, and also buy tickets to one of his concerts!" and so on and so forth. Kind of like in the story The Emperor Has No Clothes. Well, I'm that little kid in the crowd that says, "He's not wearing any clothes!"
Not even a white chestless unitard.
1930s hobo? No, Tom Waits