Anyone who tells you they don’t like any of Barry Manilow’s songs is lying to your face. I know it’s not really hip to like him right now, unless you’re over the age of 60, but I am not afraid to stand up and say it. I think he has so many great songs (that’s right, I said GREAT) and there has to be at least one for everybody. Weekend in New England is my Manilow tune of choice right now because it’s beautiful and sad and lovely, and the part where it builds to crescendo at the end is so much fun to sing at the top of your lungs in the car, attracting the attention of fellow motorists who wonder why you look like you’re going into convulsions at the wheel. (See also: Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me by Mel Carter.) Weekend might be too cheesy for some people, but who doesn’t love Copacabana? I know it’s more reminiscent of Miami, but I think it’s so awesome in that “Las Vegas in the 70s” way, like men in sharp suits and women in sequined gowns swilling gin and rolling hard eights at the Craps table. If you don’t like Copa, you’re not old enough or knowledgeable enough to understand how cool Vegas was in the 70s and you need to go rent Casino and sit in awe of Sharon Stone’s costumes and eye make-up. Hottest spot north of Havana!
Also, there was that awesome Star Wars Cantina parody that just makes the song even cooler.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Monday, October 15, 2007
Oh, I’m sorry; did I wander onto the set of the Jerry Springer show?
The weekend before last Amanda’s sister got married and Amanda came home to be in the wedding. The wedding was a really lovely affair, despite the fact that the hardwood floor, when wet, became very slippery and I fell. Twice. It was like karma biting me in the butt, since I fell right in front of Chris and if you know me at all, you know one of my chief entertainments in life has been to laugh hysterically when Chris trips, shrieks like a little girl, and hits the ground while his shoes fly in two different directions. However, I was not the only one to fall at the wedding. Chris himself fell twice, one other reveler spent more time on the floor than on his feet (though that had more to do with the beer in his system than the beer on the floor), and at the end of the night you could watch the dance floor and see a person drop out of sight approximately every nine seconds. Good times.
The next evening Amanda came over to watch the long-awaited Rock of Love reunion show. I eagerly anticipated all sorts of cat fighting and hair pulling, but I was bitterly disappointed by a shocking lack of such antics. Even Heather and Lacey were polite and conciliatory toward each other. Heather even apologized for calling Lacey a prostitute in front of her parents. How boring. Boo! But, it is a truth universally acknowledged that whenever one would-be shockfest lets you down, another springs up from out of nowhere to take its place.
The facts are these: For the past two months Amanda has been dating this guy, David, and she’s been really happy about her relationship. They got along really well, he was very kind and considerate, and she was even thinking about asking him to come home to PA to spend New Year’s with her. When she flew back to Houston after the wedding weekend, David picked her up from the airport. She thought he was behaving a bit strangely, but she was exhausted from her trip and put it out of her mind. The next day things seemed normal. She and David were back to texting each other throughout the day and they’d made plans to get dinner and see a movie that Friday. All day and evening on Thursday he was MIA. She heard nothing from him on Friday, and he stood her up for their date. On Saturday she went to dinner with her girlfriends, where “trashing David” was the most popular item on the menu, but on Sunday when she still hadn’t heard anything from him, she decided to take action. She got onto his MySpace page and emailed the young lady who was at the top of his friends list. She told the girl (who I’ll call Doris, since I didn’t ask Amanda what her name was) that she was a friend of David’s and asked if she knew if he was okay. Doris wrote back immediately saying David was at the gym and asking Amanda how she knew him. When Amanda wrote back that she had been seeing David for two months, Doris wrote back to say they needed to talk.
For the next two hours Amanda and Doris talked on the phone, comparing schedules and trading stories about David that sounded remarkably similar. He’d been dating Doris since May, living with her since July, and lying like a pathological lying liar since the day he emerged from his mother’s womb. When he got back from the gym Doris asked, “David, who’s Amanda?” David claimed he didn’t know anyone named Amanda. From the speakerphone Amanda shouted, “You have GOT to be kidding me!” He proceeded to deny everything, claiming that his ex-wife put somebody up to this. And the saddest, most pathetic part? Despite enough proof to convict OJ, Doris still wasn’t sure who to believe. Oh, Doris, Doris, Doris. Please, love yourself more than that.
After all these shenanigans, Amanda went to the gym and did some boxing. Hopefully Doris learned that she’s better off alone than badly accompanied. And ladies, I advise you to steer clear of all men named David in the greater Houston area, just to be safe.
The next evening Amanda came over to watch the long-awaited Rock of Love reunion show. I eagerly anticipated all sorts of cat fighting and hair pulling, but I was bitterly disappointed by a shocking lack of such antics. Even Heather and Lacey were polite and conciliatory toward each other. Heather even apologized for calling Lacey a prostitute in front of her parents. How boring. Boo! But, it is a truth universally acknowledged that whenever one would-be shockfest lets you down, another springs up from out of nowhere to take its place.
The facts are these: For the past two months Amanda has been dating this guy, David, and she’s been really happy about her relationship. They got along really well, he was very kind and considerate, and she was even thinking about asking him to come home to PA to spend New Year’s with her. When she flew back to Houston after the wedding weekend, David picked her up from the airport. She thought he was behaving a bit strangely, but she was exhausted from her trip and put it out of her mind. The next day things seemed normal. She and David were back to texting each other throughout the day and they’d made plans to get dinner and see a movie that Friday. All day and evening on Thursday he was MIA. She heard nothing from him on Friday, and he stood her up for their date. On Saturday she went to dinner with her girlfriends, where “trashing David” was the most popular item on the menu, but on Sunday when she still hadn’t heard anything from him, she decided to take action. She got onto his MySpace page and emailed the young lady who was at the top of his friends list. She told the girl (who I’ll call Doris, since I didn’t ask Amanda what her name was) that she was a friend of David’s and asked if she knew if he was okay. Doris wrote back immediately saying David was at the gym and asking Amanda how she knew him. When Amanda wrote back that she had been seeing David for two months, Doris wrote back to say they needed to talk.
For the next two hours Amanda and Doris talked on the phone, comparing schedules and trading stories about David that sounded remarkably similar. He’d been dating Doris since May, living with her since July, and lying like a pathological lying liar since the day he emerged from his mother’s womb. When he got back from the gym Doris asked, “David, who’s Amanda?” David claimed he didn’t know anyone named Amanda. From the speakerphone Amanda shouted, “You have GOT to be kidding me!” He proceeded to deny everything, claiming that his ex-wife put somebody up to this. And the saddest, most pathetic part? Despite enough proof to convict OJ, Doris still wasn’t sure who to believe. Oh, Doris, Doris, Doris. Please, love yourself more than that.
After all these shenanigans, Amanda went to the gym and did some boxing. Hopefully Doris learned that she’s better off alone than badly accompanied. And ladies, I advise you to steer clear of all men named David in the greater Houston area, just to be safe.
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