Thursday, February 7th, 2002
“I’m coming up,” snarls Pink, “so you better get this party started.” I’m feeling increasingly disconnected from the pop culture mainline, so a line like this just sort of rattles around in my brain, failing to find any referents to cling to. Pink makes it clear right in her song that she cares less, if I don’t like it I can kiss her ass.
The only reason I mention Ms. Pink is that I spent a half-hour or so of my life—unrecoverable—watching an MTV ‘Diary’ of the pop star. Diary—the show where the slogan is “You think you know me. You don’t know anything.” I learned from this show that this young woman is an earnest artist, who, her drivers’ license will reveal, is named Alecia Moore. She spent quite a while talking about how exciting it was to be working with a producer who is an older woman, a legend in the business, and, sorry, I’ve never heard of her, either! Linda Perry, from 4 Non Blondes. Sorry, doesn’t ring a bell.
So yes, in the empty cobwebbed alcoves of my brain, Pink is indeed M!ssundaztood. Good luck with those spelling (typing?) classes.
Meanwhile, my pop culture quotient is even lower than usual because I can’t chat about Super Bowl spots with my friends—Sammy and I went to see ‘Lord of the Rings’ instead, and were better off for the experience, I think. If nothing else, the movie made me want to visit New Zealand, and it made me wonder whether in the zillions of sword-clangin’ fight scenes, whether director Peter jackson had the sense of humor to get Lucy Lawless into one shot, way in the background, a cameo like R2D2’s in Close Encounters.
It’s a cold, rainy week in Atlanta, and we have lame ratings book television to look forward to, the Olympics, and of course the combo Lincoln’s Birthday/Dad’s Birthday/Valentine’s Day holiday that kinda just confuses me.
Stay warm, stay happy.