Monday, April 28, 2008
My heart won't go on
Death might have been better.
Filing taxing would have certainly been funner.
Listening to the newest Snow CD (you know that super ghetto white rapper from Canada that gave us the gem "Informer" in the 1990s) might have been more rewarding.
I was in Akron, Ohio last weekend and, no, that isn't why death, taxes and licking a boom boom down wouldn't have been more pleasurable although it could come close.
Instead, I had the luxury of having Celine Dion in my life all weekend. She was playing on the intercom in the Canton-Akron airport the minute I stepped off the plane. I was ready to go home right then and there. She was playing on my radio in my rental car the minute I turned the key. She was playing on the Muzak in the lobby of my hotel. That crazy biznitch was everywhere I was. I couldn't shake her near, far or wherever I was.
I heard all of the hits. I almost went out and bought a sequined shirt and learned French. That woman moves me. I'm almost brought to tears when I hear her angelic call.
Dion is a talented singer. Doesn't her lifelong Vegas contract prove that? Doesn't the hordes of women from South Florida that look like dried up Gucci bags that worship her prove her dominance in the worldwide sphere of modern music? Of course not. That's why we have to be subjected to her Top 400 hits on the radio wherever we go.
Please. Her reign must end.
Besides, I can't wait for the new Snow Greatest Hits tape to come out. I'm so buying it.