Photo courtesy of popdust.com.
What’s with Madonna? I never really asked myself that question because I’ve always been a bit of fan, enjoying her music, relishing the controversy, and admiring her skill at always reinventing herself. She was my generation’s Lady Gaga.
But now? Now, she has gone entirely too far – much further than writhing on the floor in a wedding gown at one of the earliest MTV Video Music Awards, much further than the “Sex” book fiasco, much further than her
The presentation is made and . . .
mediocre acting career. Wait, that last one probably wasn’t much of a stretch.
In case you haven’t seen the video, here is a brief summary. Madonna was holding court at the Venice Film Festival, sitting behind a table and a live microphone. A man approached the table and presented her with a giant purple Hydrangea bloom and said, “You are my princess.” She politely accepted the flower. As the
. . . the eyes roll.
man walked away, however, she turned to her left (at a person off-camera), and made big, exasperated eyes. Then she turned right and said, “I absolutely loathe Hydrangeas.”
Really? Loathe? I mean who can loathe a plant? You can certainly loathe, I don’t know, a serial killer, a dictator, maybe even Brussells Sprouts if you had to choose a plant (although, personally, I love them). I might be tempted to say that I loathe weeds and weeding. The truth is I enjoy weeding. And as for the weeds, they can be annoying and tiresome – but I would never say that I loathe them. In fact, I actually like some of them – but that’s a whole other post.
Beware of empty apologies.
To add insult to injury, she then released a video, “Madonna’s Love Letter to Hydrangeas,” in which she appears to be apologizing to a Hydrangea bouquet. “You have no idea how many nights I have lost thinking how I hurt you. Words cannot express how sorry I am. To think I may have caused you pain.” But faster than a ray of light, she throws the bouquet onto the ground, and says, “I’m left with the fact that I still hate Hydrangeas! And I will always hate them!” Then there is an expletive and a statement that she likes roses.
Huh?
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It’s game day — at last. If you live in the New York Metro area — as I do — or in New England or Indianapolis, for that matter, Super Bowl madness has reached the saturation point. Every second of local news coverage is devoted to the teams, the fans, the food — even my local supermarket broke a record for the number of heroes that were ordered for Super Bowl parties.
Nitty Gritty Dirt Man 