L-A: I didn’t actually bother to watch the half time show of the sporting event. I knew it was happening, but it was way too hard to figure out when the entertainment portion of the Superbowl happened. Besides, I figured the interwebs would update me when it happened. And it did.
But here’s my reason for not watching:
You see, once upon a time, Madonna was totes my hero. I wanted to be just like her.
Well, look just like her. I mean, I don’t think I understood anything she was singing about in the early 80s. I’m pretty sure I wasn’t totally familiar with the word “virgin” at the time. It was just a catchy pop song on MuchMusic.
My first album, and I do mean album was ‘True Blue’ and it came with one of my first posters for my wall (the other, if I recall correctly, was Boy George…and I’m not sure I understood he was a boy. Story for another day).
My love for Madonna has had fits and starts over the years. It’s never been constant. But she always pulled out the catchy pop tune and won me back.
It’s hard not to respect a lady who can still move like that as she hits 50.
But here’s the thing Madonna, you’ve just gotten too weird. I might listen to your music, but I kind of can’t deal with you. And I feel like it has something to do with those arms of yours.
Quite frankly, they scare me.
I understand that if you’re going to bust a serious move, you’ve got to stay in shape, but those arms just aren’t right. They aren’t natural. I’m worried that you’ve tightened them up so much, a muscle might snap. And that sounds painful and gross.
But it’s not just your unnatural arms. It’s your weird semi-British accent. And that one fingerless glove you wore to the Golden Globes. And your horrible speech at said Golden Globes.
I know I get on the case of Taylor Swift and Kate Winslet for being so surprised to win every award you can possibly be nominated for (I’m pretty sure Kate Winslet won the Superbowl), but at least they attempt humility – even if it is over the top. But you Madonna? You wrote it off like the song was something you wrote in your sleep and was totally not as important as your directing and editing, which totally downplayed any efforts put in by the other nominees (probably why none of them look super impressed with you).
“Please Guy. I’m trying to focus on being a director. I want people to pay attention to the film. And I don’t have time. Then I finished the film and started making my record and somehow magically and miraculously the song emerged.”
Madonna, that is a lesson in how not to give a thank you speech.
And finally, the thing that makes me over you as my childhood hero is what you wore to this Superbowl press conference.
Why the baggy pants and little vest and giant chain? Lady, you have the cash and the resources and the access to all the stylists in all the world and yet you dress like you a reject from No Doubt, circa 1996.
So that’s it for us Madonna. I’ll try to remember you fondly, but even some of those memories (and those of Gentlemen Prefer Blondes) are tarnished by Legsy lip syncing.
But that one isn’t your fault.