In fact, it may well be one of the most gorgeous I’ve
experienced during my time in London!
Having
successfully submitted all of my midterm assignments (a.k.a. ‘CW1s’) as of
yesterday, I made up my mind to take full advantage of today and
tomorrow—especially since both days were/are supposed to be sunny, clear, and between
21-23˚C (69-73˚F).
We found this shirt in the Historic Stables Market. I told Nic it should be his next tattoo.
EN
and I spent most of our time between the Camden Lock and Historic Stables
Markets. In many ways, it reminded me of the souq in Marrakech—just without the bartering (though there was a bit of that going on too).
I
definitely want to go back, and soon!
Oh,
and have I mentioned the amazing piña colada that EN got—actually served
in a pineapple? It was epic. (But, as for me, I couldn’t pass up the
opportunity to have a bit of mulled wine, which I haven’t had an opportunity to
enjoy since the days of my former coworker Jim’s amazing Christmas parties—the
only thing it was missing was the fresh cranberries!)
It may have only been 3:00 PM here...but it was 5:00 PM in South Africa. That counts, right?
After leaving
Camden Town, we started walking aimlessly toward the southwest(ish), for a little less than a 1.5 miles. We didn’t
have any plans—we just weren’t ready to call an (early) end to such a gorgeous
day. Eventually, we found ourselves wandering through the lovelyRegent’s Park. It was absolutely
spectacular, and reminded me quite a bit of Brookside Botanical Gardens back home (in Maryland). I wish Mom could see it in person, because she loves
going to Brookside for family photos—alas, since she is not here in person, I
had to try and grab photos on her behalf:
Oh yeah, and EN and I decided to climb some trees, because...well, they were there and we could.
I also tried to
get photos of some hot, shirtless sunbathers making use of the park, because,
well they were also there and I could. Except I couldn’t, because I was afraid
I was being too obvious!
Noticing how
close we were to Soho (only about 1.6 miles), we made our way over for some
delicious coffee at LJ’s Coffee House. It
was during today’s visit that I realized just how similar LJ’s is to the first
gayborhood coffee shop I fell in love with: Washington, DC’s own Soho Tea & Coffee. The vibe is very similar,
from the music (e.g., Madonna) to the artwork by local artists that’s displayed (and for sale)
on the wall. I spent many happy, happy hours at Soho’s as I was coming into my
own, and I think that’s why LJ’s has resonated with me in the way that it has.
Tomorrow’s
plans, which I hope will be equally wonderful, include going with JvE (and
hopefully RAS) to Portobello Road Market in Notting Hill, followed by a trip to
Kensington Palace and Gardens!
I’ve been debating whether or not I wanted to do
something like this. It seems so cliché. But, having allowed a few days to pass
since Whitney Houston’s untimely passing, I find that I’m still struggling with
the loss of a pop-culture figure who has been ‘with me’ throughout various
epochs in my life.
I know that sounds silly. I mean, it wasn’t as if
I really knew her, or likely ever would.
So, what makes the loss of Ms. Houston so much more home-hitting for me
than, say, the loss of the late (great) Eartha Kitt, or Etta James?
The answer lies, as I alluded to earlier, in
Whitney’s prominent, mediated place in my life over the years. To that end,
I’ve compiled a list of my personal top 20 songs—because ten was simply not
enough—with bits of explanation thrown in here-and-there discussing how they
factored in to what was going on with me at the time.
(NB: the list is in
roughly chronological order, not in
order of preference—I simply couldn’t pull off the latter. Also this is just numbers 1-10, and 11-20 will be in a subsequent update.)
Out of Whitney’s earlier works—the ’80s years, if you
will—"Saving All My Love" is definitely my favorite. It lacks the poppy, teenagery feel of
other early songs like “How Will I Know?” and, overall, feels more adult in my
opinion. It also features that sexy saxophone element which, even as a kid, I
was drawn to.
Now, I’m going to step out of order for a moment here because, owing
to an unfortunate lapse into country music fandom (followed by a much more
respectful rise into a love of Motown, oldies, &c.). The next time I
encountered Whitney was in 1992.
On a school bus.
You see, during my middle
school years—which I loathed with a passion—I was forced to ride the bus, wherein
the driver would play a local radio station called WPGC. Since I was still in
my Motown phase at that point, I found most of what was played on WPGC to be
less enjoyable than having one’s hair set on fire. But, my peers enjoyed it, as
did the driver, so for three years I was subjected to it.
And then, one morning, the usual garbage being pumped through
the bus’s speakers was interrupted by a deceptively quiet, gentle voice
proclaiming that if she stayed she would only be in the way. My personal
recollection is that the bus fell silent in a way that is nigh-impossible for a
group of 50-odd adolescents. What’s more: I was just as enraptured as they
were.
Who was this siren of song? I wondered. The thing she does
with her voice… The notes she can hit…
It was all quite magical (not to mention
emotionally evocative)—especially at the moment just over three minutes into
the song, when it shifts into something quite beyond a power-ballad—and, when I
finally realized who it was that was singing, I fell in love. For the next few
months, every morning I was gifted with a 4 ½ minute reprieve from the hell
that was middle school.
I discovered shortly thereafter that the song was from the
soundtrack to “The Bodyguard,” a movie starring both Houston and Costner. Now,
at the time, I wasn’t in the habit of seeing movies in the theater—I was
perfectly content to wait for them to come out on video (yes, VHS!). So, as
soon as it hit the stores, I rented it. That’s when I discovered my other two
favorite songs from this era:
and,
In the case of the first ("I Have Nothing"), I have to be completely honest:
it was the Cleopatra-styled headdress that she wears which roped me in. But,
moreover, it was the wailing expression of her longing, coupled with the
powerful declaration of having “nothing,
nothing, nothing” if she couldn’t have the object of her affection. Also,
there was that same brief pause before an orchestral sweep found in “I Will
Always Love You.”
Regarding “Run to You,” I was intrigued by the idea of the
duality in people (not, of course, that I could have articulated it as such at
the time): this notion of someone being completely different on the inside than
they are on the outside.
Indeed, courtesy of my struggles with depression at
the time, I felt I understood all-too-well this duality—oh, people could tell
there might be something going on within me (unlike Whitney’s “always in control”
character), but no one—least of all my peers—grasped the destructive thoughts
and emotions roiling beneath the surface. I wanted desperately to have someone
to turn to, to talk all of that over with…but, there were no Costner-like
characters in my life to fill that need at the time. And so, I simply had to live vicariously through the Rachel Marron character.
Now, with both of these, I would love to be able to say that
they also spoke to me because of something or other to do with having to live a
closeted life at the time. But, that wasn’t the case. Honestly, at the time, I
wasn’t even fully aware of my sexual identity; but, I knew that I was missing
out on something in terms of the
whole love-thing, and both of these songs spoke to that missing something.
Between “The Bodyguard” soundtrack and Houston’s “My Love is
Your Love” album, various things happened in my life: middle school, as I
mentioned earlier, continued to be hellacious—but it somehow managed to get
even worse for reasons I’d rather not get into here; my paternal grandparents,
who were both very sick, moved in with us for an extended period of time
(turning a small, one-bathroom, rambler-style house into a home for six
people), leading to much conflict within the family; and my sister and I were
at frequent logger-heads owing to the difference in our ages coupled with the
earlier issues I referenced.
All-in-all, it was a shitty time, and all time not
spent at school—and I really do mean all time—was
spent in my room, with the blinds drawn and the lights off, sleeping, because
it was the only way I could avoid my reality at the time. During this dark time
in my life, I didn’t listen to music (except when forced to on the bus).
Period.
Now, the first song I actually caught from the “My Love is
Your Love” album was
“When You Believe” (Houston’s duet with Mariah Carey), and though I liked
it—and it re-inspired my love for her music—it still wasn’t enough to get me to
buy the album. That happened the first time I heard Whitney, accompanied by
Faith Evans and Kelly Price, talking about the “Heartbreak Hotel.”
But what was it about this mythical hotel that caught my
attention? Well, the song was released (as a single) in December of 1998. But,
earlier that year—around May or June—I had experienced the most profound
epiphany: I am gay! (The moment of this epiphany happened in my Spanish II
class, and involved a peer—but that’s a story for another day. Maybe.)
At any rate, by December, I had had some time to process
this grand revelation, and also to assume one of the most basic, stereotypical
qualities of your average US American gay man: I had developed a deep-seated,
profound respect, admiration, and love for strong black women. Especially when
said-women could sing.
Sure enough, “Heartbreak Hotel” stars three gorgeous,
fierce women with voices that could level a mountain, and they’re giving a big
“f*** you” to the men who’ve done them wrong.
Hell. Yeah.
In term’s of the
song’s video, it didn’t hurt either that I love the Florida coastline! Uhm…and the red
dress-with-collar-and-white-fur-coat combination? Friggin’ exquisite!
Speaking of (similar) amazing fashion choices: Whitney’s
dress in the “It’s Not Right, But It’s Okay” video.
Oh my gracious—that leather
skirt! Whoo!
Basically, the song
ranks on here for the same reason
as the last. In essence, Whitney is powerful, stunning, and the video appeals
to my inner-drag-queen. (Plus, it gave me the whole “get goin’, get goin’”
hand-flick that I frequently emulate when dancing and singing in the shower!)
Now, “It’s Not Right, But It’s Okay” also
represents another new phase in my life. At the start of the new millennium, I
was involved in a rather…trying
relationship that extended well-past the expiration date. (If only I’d listened
to my mother when she referred to him as the “anti-Christ!”)
However, one positive aspect of my life that
came about as a result of this mauvaise
relation was that, together, we entered into the world of drag culture.
Practically every week we would make our way down to DC and watch the female
illusionists at Ziegfeld’s work their magic alongside the music of MadisonAvenue, Brittney, Christina, Madonna, Cyndi, &c. Oh and, of course,
Whitney.
This merely added to my love of the over-the-top, spectacularly
overly-dramatic, on-stage flair—which Whitney makes manifest in her video for
“I Learned from the Best.”
So, on the one hand, this song spoke to me because of the
video—there Whitney is, on a stage before an audience, with big hair and a
kick-ass ensemble, just like so many queens I’ve known over the years.
And
then, on the other hand, the lyrics spoke to the intense feeling of betrayal
and equally intense desire to end the disastrous, unfaithful relationship I was
stuck in. (In fact, after I finally did end things—taking extra special care to
be as spiteful and financially- and emotionally-vindictive as I could be, as a
special “thank you” for all of the infidelities and emotional abuse over the
years—this song helped ease me back into singlehood.)
Wash; rinse; and, repeat: you have the story of my love for
“I Bow Out” as well.
The final song from this magnificent album I want to talk
about is “If I Told You That.” Like the others, it hit me at just the right
moment. (And yes, once again, I was mesmerized by her outfit as well!)
Following my break-up with the “anti-Christ,” I entered into
a succession of brief liaisons with numerous amazing people, many of whom
number amongst my closest friends today. With that latter set, there were many
times where I felt the bond was so strong between us that I was both intrigued
by and scared of allowing it to cross into the mushy, wonderful realm of love.
And
that’s kind of what this song is all about—finding that balance between the
closest of friendships and an affection so deep that it borders on love. In
essence, should we or shouldn’t we?
In the end, I never allowed the full
transformation to take place. Quite simply, I was afraid and wasn’t ready (on
an emotional level) as a result of what I’d just been through—and, honestly,
I’m glad such was the case, because it enabled me to meet and develop a
relationship with Nic years later, as well as maintain an amazing constellation
of friends!
Okay, last one (for this part).
Circa 1999, I was listening to a lot of Enrique Iglesias—his
music was pretty so-so, but I found him to be quite studly. Plus, I was coming
out of my melancholy, post-relationship phase and ready to give love an honest
shot once again, so the inner romantic in me was longing for the types of songs
he was singing.
Then, one day, I happened to be in a Radio Shack of all places.
(What the hell was I doing in a Radio Shack? I couldn’t tell you, but I can say that it’s one of only about five
times it’s ever happened in my life!)
At any rate, I was in the back of the store, and they
had one of those TV walls—and there was Whitney, whispering “Dame un beso para siempre” (roughly:
“kiss me forever”).
Why was she speaking in Spanish? I was intrigued…
And then,
there was Enrique, too! Hotness!
And then that hotness proceeded to explode all over my face
at the (roughly) 3:35 mark, when Enrique and Whitney start singing to each
other in Spanish:
Enrique: S’lo, s’lo un
beso, un beso para siempre
Whitney: Para siempre
Enrique: Dame un beso para siempre
Whitney: Para siempre-e-e-e-e
To this day, I find that to be one of the sexiest moments in
music history! I can’t quite tell you why, but it spoke to the time and place
that I was in at that moment in my life, and still resonates with me today!
Well, friends, I’ve rambled enough for this segment, I
think. Part II will be up later (or maybe tomorrow).
So, yesterday was the annual US American tradition of
gathering around yon television to watch commercials.
Don’t get me wrong, there’s a bit more to it than that: some
viewers—namely of the heterosexual male breed—tune in to watch a bunch of
savage barbarians beat the tar out of one another. They call this event a
‘Super Bowl.’ Being a slightly more intelligent and civilized chap, I don’t
quite get the appeal. From what I gather, however, the objective is to chase
down ablack-and-white checked pig, kick it through a hoop or net of some type, and then run
around the bases before the opposing team’s mascot gives you a strike. At some
point while this is all going on, spectators are supposed to divert their
attention to a bunch ofadorable puppiesyapping about which is better:beer that has more taste, or less filling?
As I said, though, the main purpose of this
sporting…spectacle is to celebrate America’s status as a consumerist,
capitalistic culture that supports 1% of the population while ensuring that the
other 99% of us can’t even afford basic human rights like, y’know, healthcare!
Of course, none of that matters as long as we don’t actually
think about it, right?
The ‘Super Bowl’ has admittedly given us some pretty memorable
commercials over the years. For instance, who could forget Apple’s Macintosh ad
that riffed on Orwell's 1984? Or Snickers’ humorageistBetty Whiteand hysexistcal Aretha Franklin commercials?
I surely couldn’t!
And last night, they did it again, this time courtesy of
MetLife Insurance. (See what I did there? I brought it back ’round to the whole
healthcare thing.)
Now, as you can see, this particular advertisement features some
pretty well-known animated figures owned by Warner Brothers (either directly or through
subsidiaries)...
Now, the question becomes, why are they featured in this
advertisement? Is it just good ol’ fun, meant to bring a knowing smile to
former fans of He-Man and his fearless friend, Battle-Cat? Or is there more to
it?
Let me back up a moment and explain some things—and, no,
this has nothing to do with my time abroad, but since I have the platform I’m
going to use it to talk about a topic near and dear to my heart: Masters of the
Universe (MOTU).
In 1982, Mattel—the makers of Barbie and Hot
Wheels—introduced a new 6” toyline called “Masters of the Universe.” The
minicomics that came with the original series told of a medieval world (Eternia) wherein science and sorcery merged seamlessly. At the center of this world stood an ancient fortress called Castle Grayskull; and, according to
Eternian mythology, (s)he who rules Grayskull also rules Eternia.
Enter: Skeletor, an
extra-dimensional warlord from Infinitia determined to claim that castle as his
own (with the added benefit of taking Tee-La, the warrior goddess, as his
bride). Also enter: He-Man, a barbarian jungle warrior entrusted with a
magical sword and harness by an (occasionally) different goddess figure, and
fated to be Eternia’s true king one day. (And husband of Tee-La—duh!)
As a rule, the Eternians were safe thanks to He-Man and his
friends. But something was happening here on Earth that muddied the waters a
little. (And, no, I’m not talking about the controversial fact that DC Comics
decided to position He-Man as a bi-terrestrial character—his mother, now
Eternia’s queen, was apparently from Earth.)
Suddenly, Mattel—and others, to be sure—found itself able to
market directly to children in ways that it had never been able to do before.
Enter: the half-hour toy commercial (a.k.a. modern cartoons), ensuring that He-Man and his friends would be duking-it-out with the forces of evil five days a week!
From 1983-1985 (and then afterward courtesy of repeats),
Mattel—through Filmation—brought the adventures of He-Man and the Masters of
the Universe into the homes of boys and girls across the Western world. But, being capitalists
at heart, the big bosses at Mattel realized there was more to the children’s
market than just little boys!
Enter: She-Ra, the Princess of Power (POP) and He-Man’s twin
sister—and a toyline that was, from the bosses’ perspective, aimed at girls.
(This latter fact is highly debatable, as there are many boys who collected the
POP toys, just as there were girls who collected the MOTU toys.) The initial
She-Ra series ran from 1985-1987, but, like its sibling-show, continued
afterwards through repeats.
The MOTU mythos relaunched itself again—accompanied by
fresh toylines—in 1990(-1991) and 2002(-2004), and the property even saw a
live-action movie produced in 1987 courtesy of Warner Brothers.
Supported by an active fan-community (and yet another toyline, now in its fourth year), the MOTU property has been with fans almost
constantly for the last 30 years. And, rumor has it, that Mattel plans to make the property’s 30th
spectacular.
Not only is therebrand new artwork and other collectibles, but references by Mattel officials
to big and exciting things down the road
Could that include a new MOTU cartoon, which what we see in the MetLife commercial
is a preview of? Fans like myself are certainly hoping so!
Now I want to move on to the other big story from
yesterday’s baseball match, or whatever it was: the half-time show.
One word: Madonna.
Another word: Awesome.
Rumor has it, the Material Girl pulled her hamstring right
before the show, but that didn’t stop her from putting on a great performance,
which included bits from fan-favorites “Vogue,” “Music,” and “Like a Prayer.” (NB: Those individual links take you to my favorite versions of each song!)
Yet, as much as I love Madge (excepting her acting
‘abilities’), I’m not here to talk about her performance. Rather, I want to
talk about her wardrobe choice.
For your convenience, I’ve embedded her performance last
night. You don’t have to watch the whole thing, but, at the very least, watch
her during the opening (“Vogue”) segment, and pay special attention to her
ensemble:
It didn’t take long for me—and numerous others—to drop our
jaws when we saw her. “What’re you lookin’ at?” you may join the immaculate
Madonna in asking. The answer is, first and foremost, her headdress. Next it’s
her golden cape. And then the rest.
Almost immediately, my stateside MOTU/POP-friends went to the
Facebook store and started posting comparison images like the one seen here:
The Material Princess?
That’s right: we were comparing her to She-Ra. (See, I
really do try to make these posts come full-circle!)
And I agreed initially,
but it didn't take long for me (and others, to be fair) to realize that the comparison was
close but still a touch off…
And then I (we) remembered the Bubble-Power She-Ravariant from the original and MOTUC toylines:
Left: Original Bubble-Power She-Ra Art by Nightwing / Right: Bubble-Power Madonna?
Perfect comparison!
Now, do I think the homage was intentional? No.
Would I love
to find out that She-Who-Must-Not-Act-Again and Mattel planned this whole thing
out as part of the MOTU 30th Anniversary celebration?
Abso-freakin-lutely!
All right, kiddies, I think I’ve blathered on enough about
all of this. I could go on and on—I haven’t even touched upon the various
ideologies MOTU and POP viewers were inculcated with over the last three decades!—but
I won’t.
Besides, I need to start writing my next entry, which is a
look at part of the UK’s culture happening this very day…
