random award show commentary

1.) I read this morning that Taylor Swift is 20, while Lady Gaga is 23. Really? Really? I thought they were, respectively, like 16 and 30. It makes the fact that Taylor Swift is writing and singing all those songs from the perspective of a high school sophomore kinda creepy, doesn't it? Okay, excuse me while I go on a related tangent, which is probably better than the unrelated tangents I usually go on. I was at Mr Indemnity's yesterday working on the Top Secret Under the Table Don't-tell-the-feds-on-me job I'm doing for him, and in his car either before or after we went to Kellys for dinner, the radio was playing that "Fight for the Right to Party" (or whatever its real name is) song by the Beastie Boys. After we mutually agreed that the Beastie Boys kick ass, even after all these years, I pondered whether they still perform that song now that they're all, y'know, middle-aged. And it occurs to me now that of course none of them were high school sophomores when they wrote that, and rather than find it creepy, I find it a charmingly cynical attempt to connect with the teenaged audience they wished to capture. So why my problem with Ms Swift? (Besides that she butchered Rhiannon.) And I think it's that she's being marketed in such a way that people like me kind of assume she really is a sweet lil 16 year old, instead of a young, but definitely grownup, woman.

2.) I found it extremely amusing that when Beyonce won her award, they cut to her and her husband (recent frequent blog-subject Jay-Z, in case you've forgotten) engaged in the most awkward stilted hug you've ever seen. It looked like the kind of hug you give the person who's *presenting* you the award--if they're someone you've never met before in your life and you're not a hugger in the first place. I was like, really, dude? Really? You're too badass (or repressed?) to kiss your very lovely wife in public? Too funny.

3.) Oh, what a travesty when they were bleeping the whole Dr Dre/Eminem/Lil Wayne performance. They were not just bleeping words, it was like whole lines and verses. D and I were wondering if our satellite was fucking up because it didn't seem possible they'd be bleeping half a fucking performance. But, no. They were. This was the last song before the last award, so the climax of the entire show. Um, why invite three renowned rappers to perform your climactic number if you aren't willing to let them, y'know, rap? I'm sure Taylor Swift coulda sung another song about puppies, rainbows, and cute boys instead.

Every time I tell myself I'm not going to watch another award show ever, I do. I never learn. In my defense I was tired from my Top Secret Project and my onion rings were sitting in my belly like greasy lead. That's my excuse, and I'm stickin' with it.

xoxo