Archive for August, 2013

Twerk it, girl!

Oh Miley

Dear Miley,

By now, you’ve likely slept off the adrenaline rush from last night’s performance at the VMAs. You have undoubtedly noted the less-than-stellar reviews of your presentation. Many people are wondering now (and were wondering last night), “What was Miley thinking?”

Will Smith and family react

Will Smith and family were fairly shocked, I’d say.

I bet I know what you were thinking.

I bet it was, “I don’t want to be known as Hannah Montana anymore.”

I get it. Many child stars go through the same thing. Look at Britney and Lindsay. Heck, even look at Judy Garland!

Reinvention is the name of the fame game. When Christina Aguilera wanted to show us she was all grown up, she gave us the “Dirrty” video (which made us feel like we could get herpes from contact with our TVs).

When Julie Andrews wanted to shed her wholesome Mary Poppins image, she took off her top in “S.O.B.”

Notice a theme emerging here. I don’t want to scream “gender issues,” but there is a problem. Why do women feel like they have to get naked, or nearly naked, to shed an image? In running away from Rachel Green, even Jennifer Aniston has headed down that path with “Horrible Bosses” and “We’re the Millers.”

Jennifer Aniston

And usually, the response is shock and dismay (OK, maybe not in Aniston’s case, but still). And the level of outrage seems greater than when male stars try to break out of their mold.

For example, there is no massive backlash against Bieber. Chris Brown seems to be doing just fine. Even Danny Bonaduce has a regular gig now.

Maybe this is on my mind because today is Women’s Equality Day.

Yes, it would have been nice if you had taken the Ron Howard route to respect. You didn’t. OK. All the haters need to just quiet down now and let you work this out. (Robin Thicke and his wife are the only ones who get to complain if they want.)

I hope you will consider carefully your next move. And I hope it doesn’t involve bending over and wiggling.

You stay classy, Miley.

Best wishes,

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Dear Adam,

It was lovely to see you again. I must admit that you are looking much improved over the last time I saw you .


The huge cummerbund (ie. Man Spanx) is gone, I see. You have a new jaunty Hussar hat that appears lightweight and vented. I’m sure it is much more comfortable than that wool monstrosity you were wearing in October. Your voice also has improved over the past 10 months, and the near-yodeling section of “Stand and Deliver” has benefitted markedly.

The only problem? You look tired. Worn out. In need of a vacation. I grant that you’ve been traveling for about a year. I get it. But you can’t just phone it in. People are counting on you.

I drove hours and my friend Julia flew over numerous states so that we could celebrate the 30th anniversary of when we saw you together the first time (with my poor dad as chaperone). The least you could do was one of your high kicks. OK, you are 58. I would have settled for a low kick — or even a sultry move to stage left. Nothing. You were center stage at Center Stage the whole night.

And you wore this:


It’s not wise to wear a young version of yourself. As my friend Royce noted, you are now “that guy.”

To add insult to injury, you skedaddled seconds after the last note, thus depriving us of the chance to squeal at you for old times’ sake.

Really, Adam. Fans deserve better.

The fans who, as pre-teens, wore “Pure Sex” on our backs deserve better. (And P.S., how did we get away with that?)

The fans who still count you on the GOOMF list deserve better.

I’m disappointed. Julia is disappointed. (I think our friend Colleen is fine, but that’s because she did not have your former concert self as a guide for comparison.)

Of course I’ll give you another chance.

Don’t let me down.

Love always,

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