A Brief Aside
Watched the Steelers lay an egg in Jacksonville tonight--I kinda feel bad for Jags fans. First of all, you have to wear all that teal. That's rough. That's really rough. And then, according to the MNF crew, you define your season by how you do against the Steelers. Jags beat us last year, we won the Super Bowl. I'm sure that's almost as good.
Anyway, played VB last night (man, I'm playin' pretty good) and went to the bar afterwards to drink and eat what's fried. Came home and played some half-soused poker while watching the two High Stakes Poker shows I taped tonight. In the middle of the second episode there was a commercial for a CD you can buy of Julio Iglesias singing "Romantic Classics". OK, this is the sort of stuff you can expect to see advertised on stations like Game Show Network. And I'm certainly not opposed to Mr. Iglesias making a living.
Anyway, the first song Julio is crooning (if that's the word) is "I Wanna Know What Love Is" by Foreigner. Wow, right off the bat we get the Foreigner. Is there a Spanish word for "wanna"? I don't know. But seeing Mr. Iglesias in an immaculate tuxedo emoting Lou Gramm's words into a is an experience to be savored. I mean...wow.
The next song nearly had my jaw hitting the table, Harry Nilsson's "Everybody's Talking At Me". Again, the image of the tanned, sophisticated Iglesias singing a song immortalized in
Midnight Cowboy...I can only say "jeepers". Especially when you see Iglesias's impassioned facial expressions as he sings.
Next comes the roll call of the timeless romantic classis Julio put on this collectible CD, though it only runs to three songs. "How Can You Mend a Broken Heart". "Careless Whisper". And, I kid you not, Willie Nelson's "Always on My Mind". Seeing Iglesias nearly doubled over with longing as he sings Willie's words...I was transfixed. It was like staring at the Gorgon.
My heart's not made of stone. Sad songs about those unlucky in love affect me deeply. But it's a bit harder for me to connect to the emotional turmoil in these gooey love songs when they're sung by a ridiculously handsome, famous, and successful guy. Who didn't write the songs in the first place. Frankly, I'd be far more moved listening to some tone-deaf slob sing "What a Fool Believes" in a sports bar during karaoke night.
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