Off Key

If there was any good to come from Whitney Houston’s sudden and shocking passing on Saturday.

It’s that she didn’t have to sit through the 210 minute tragedy called the Grammy Awards on Sunday.

For years we have heard that the music business is dead.

Sunday night we confirmed it.

For three-and-a-half hours we watched an industry disappear in front of our eyes.

It was so bad.

Chris Brown performed.

Twice.

You know Chris Brown.

The dude who produced Rihanna's biggest hit.

She was also there.

And she sang too... two.

Two songs.

One by herself.

And one with Coldplay.

Now had the Grammy producers brought their A-Game, they would’ve had Brown and Rihanna duet a song.

“I’ve Got You Under My Skin.”

“Hit Me With Your Best Shot.”

“Beat It.”

Anything by The Black Eyed.... Peas. 

The possibilities are endless.

And it probably coulda happened.

As unbelievable as this sounds, those two young lovers are rumored to be back together.

Again.

I guess she just doesn’t know a bad thing when it hits her.


The hollywood crowd seemed to have forgotten about the past as well.


They stood and applauded Brown like he was Roman Polanski.

But these two were far from the worst part of this show.

That Grammy Award goes to something called Nicki Minaj.

Ok, I admit that I really enjoy Nicki’s song Super Bass.

But whatever good Nicki had done in the past was wiped out by her atrociously atrocious performance on Sunday.

I’m ok with weird.

I love Lady Gaga.

But Nicki’s skit was so far out there, I almost started begging for more Chris Brown.

It started with a confessional... and a priest... then a film... about an exorcism... followed by a new song.

About God knows what.

Then there was blue-haired Katy Perry.

She came out to sing her big hit “E.T.”, a song about Mary Hart’s legs.

But midway through the song, the music stopped.

And the mic gave out.

Followed by the lights.

For half a second, it looked like this show was about to get good.

A major league screw up.

On National TV.

But seconds later, the Katy Perry body double, who was fake singing that song, rushed off the stage into the darkness.

As the real Katy appeared above the stage.

To sing another song.

A new song.

About her bitter breakup with actor Russell Brand.

I didn’t see Don Henley in the crowd, but Katy’s lyrics brought plenty of dirty laundry.

“You chew me up and spit me up.  You took my life, you drained me down.  But that was then and this is now.”

This song was so venomous, Alanis Morissette was blushing.

Somewhere.

You remember her.

She was nominated for Best New Artist.

In 1996.

She probably would’ve won if it wasn’t for Hootie.

And his Blowfish.

This year’s top rookie went to something called Bon Iver.

Not Bon Jovi.

Bon Iver.

The guy who accepted the award, presumably Mr. Iver, provided the most uncomfortable moment of the night.

His acceptance speech.

It was clear that this guy doesn’t get out of his parent’s basement much.

And he certainly doesn’t talk in front of crowds much.

And he’s definitely never met anybody named Gucci.

And if he can sing, we wouldn’t know it.

He never got the chance to perform.

Now even with all the lousy moments, there were a few good ones.

Some even great.

Adele deserves every award they gave her.

And 21 more.

She is something special.

Let’s just hope she has another messy breakup before she writes her next album.

I loved Bruno Mars impression of James Brown.

Any night you see Bruce Springsteen is a good night.

And Jennifer Hudson’s tribute to Whitney was brilliant.

And touching.

The Foo Fighters were good... both times they performed.

And Sir Bacon loves Sir Paul McCartney.

But as for the other three hours.

Ouch!

Whether it was the 10-minute tribute to the Beach Boys.

Who haven’t had a #1 hit in the last 24 years.

And didn’t have one for 22 years before that.

Or the 10-minute tribute to Glen Campbell.

Who had a giant hit with Rhinestone Cowboy.

When I was in first grade.

38 years ago.

This was the worst excuse for an awards show since the ESPY’s.

And they had plenty of chances.

They had Carrie Underwood, Kelly Clarkson and Jennifer Hudson in the same room.

How ‘bout they sing a song together?

While Ryan Seacrest is kissing their feet.

Heck, Lady Gaga sat in the crowd, the entire night.

With a net over her face.

She didn’t get any awards.

She didn’t hand out any awards.

And she didn’t perform.

She didn’t even have a costume change.

Not even one.

I must’ve heard a dozen times that this was MUSIC’S BIGGEST NIGHT.

If that’s really true.

Whitney Houston, we have a problem.

RIP sweet voice.

We already miss you.

Born This Way

11 bad words.

There were 11 “bad words” during the recent HBO special featuring Lady Gaga’s concert at Madison Square Garden.

This, according to my seven-year old daughter.

Well we stopped counting at 11.

That’s when she fell asleep.

In my arms.

She loved the show, but it was getting late.

But never too late for a vocabulary lesson.

The F word.

The A word.

The B word.

The D word.

The C word.

It was like Sesame Street.

For sailors.

But my kids loved the show.

All three of them.

And they love Gaga.

Just like I do.

I’m not sure if letting my kids listen to the music.

Or watch the videos.

Or watch that concert.

Is the best idea.

(Are the best idea?)

But I really do enjoy exposing the kids to culture.

Exposing.

Yeah, that’s the right word.

Come on, how cute was this.

Gaga dedicates her song “Boys Boys Boys” to all her gay friends.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

Then her male dancers do things that made me blush.

And throughout the performance my seven-year old was singing every word.

Father of the year, here I come.

Hey listen, these kids aren’t getting any younger.

And I better enjoy every moment.

My youngest will be a third grader next year.

The middle child will be in... middle school.

And child #1 -- my sweet innocent 14-year old little angel -- will be a freshman.

IN HIGH SCHOOL!

Ouch.

In fact, high school has already started.

Sorta.

One day after her eighth grade graduation she had a big day out with some of the girls from her new high school dance team.

I was the chaperone.

The responsible one.

(Insert joke here.)

So I picked the girls up at school, after their team practice.

And took them to Red Robin.

Where the french fries are “endless”.

And the burgers are $10!

After lunch we walked around the local mall for a couple of hours.

I stayed far enough away.

To stay out of the way.

But close enough to listen.

Hey, a man’s gotta blog.

On our way to the restaurant, I thought it would be a good job to create conversation.

So I asked what kind of dance Billy Elliott did.

(I knew the answer, but I was just trying to fit in.)

So much for that plan.

One of the girls said... “Billy Elliott... I think he did Tae-bo.”

At which point another girl jumped in, “no, that wasn’t Billy Elliott.”

“That was Billy Blanks.”

Maybe I should just keep quiet.

And so I did.

That gave me time to take notes.

And learn.

I learned that Coke Plus is “Coke with Vitamins.”

I learned that eggs and cheese don’t go on a salad.

And I learned that black dance shoes make your feet sweat more than tan ones.

“Because they are black.”

“Even indoors?”, asked one girl to another.

“Uh, yah!”

Duh.

The girls apparently learned something too.

They learned that my 2004 P.T. Cruiser doesn’t have electric door locks.

Something they had CLEARLY never seen before.

And they had to do it themselves.

That right there almost sent them straight to therapy.

When we got to the mall, we had plenty of time to go to every store.

And I think they just about did.

Soap stores.

T-shirts.

Cute jeans.

Foot massagers.

There was a whole lot of perusing.

Not a lot of buying.

But they were all having fun.

And that was the goal.

I was having fun too.

I plopped in my earphones and listened to sports radio.

What a beautiful day.

At one point, I stopped in a music store -- while they were next door looking at more clothes.

And just my luck, there was a giant SALE going on.

Imagine that, a SALE sign in a mall.

So I took advantage of that SALE and bought a CD.

The new CD from...

Lady Gaga, who else.

The double disk version.

Only the best for me.

When I got back to the girls they saw the bag in my hand.

And of course they wanted to know what I got.

So I showed them.

I think I got a lot of “cool” points for that one.

But those points went away seconds later.

“Hey did they have the new J.B. in there?”

“Um, J.B.?????”, I stuttered.

“Justin Bieber?”

“Oh,” I quietly mumbled.

“I didn’t see it there.”

So much for those cool points.

Not my fault.

I was born this way.