Passion Party #344 - A Shmammy Kind of Day

As a recording artist
I get to be a member of NARAS
and have the option of buying over-priced tickets
to the strange musical conflagration called
"The Grammys".
As the musical business continues to splinter
a few desires hold steady:
a desire for recognition
a desire for fame
a desire to share one's music with the largest population possible
(not specifically for financial gain,
but that would be nice if it happens...)
a desire to look different enough that when people see you they know you are "somebody", even if they don't know who you are.

The attractiveness of the Grammy telecast
and its worldwide audience
brings out a few unusual stars each year
Even Neil Young showed up looking like a grandfatherly curmudgeon
(he won an award in the pre-telecast).
Bob Dylan actually "sang" on key, a little.
Barbara Streisand sang without asking for all cameras to be confiscated
and Mick Jagger made a great pitch for health food and exercise.

The dress code for the women in the audience was
short, SHORT party dresses and
funny high-heeled shoes.
It was fun watching the women
try to walk in their booty-hugging outfits
on and off the escalators
up and down the steep stadium seating of the Staples Center
It made me want to buy stock in J-Lo's clothing company
and train to be a physical therapist
because all these women will need help if they keep walking around in shoes like that.

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