Stay far far away, Madonna
The Material-turned-Kabbalah Girl has just announced the tour dates and cities for her Confession Tour -- and thankfully Tampa Bay isn't on Madonna's list.
I'm serious. Sure, we all loved her in the 80s -- the music and attitude was fresh. Every album had a Beatle-esque feeling of renewal and revolution. That was then. Nowadays, making out with Britney Spears is her preferred way to get noticed. (Pop quiz: What song was she singing during that stunt? Does anyone remember?) Haven't we all had enough of her by now?
While Australia is so mad she's blowing them off on this tour that they've started a petition to bring her down under, I'm going to start a petition to keep her away from my town for good. (Bring back Men At Work, Aussies, and we'll give you Madonna -- straight-up deal.)
Have I lost my mind? I don't think so. I've got my reasons.
1. The music is subpar. Have you really enjoyed anything Madonna has recorded in the last 10 years? Her latest offering -- Confessions on a Dance Floor -- sounds like the soundtrack to a porn movie or a series of bad ring dials on the obnoxious coworker's cell phone.
3. Tabloid fodder. First, Madonna's out of shape, she whines. Then she's unhappy with hubby Guy Ritchie (aren't we all? Could anyone sit through one of his movies start to finish?) Now, she's feuding with Bon Jovi over remarks he made about her parenting skills.
4. The mainstream media. I can't bear the thought of the coverage. The radio and TV clowns will pour on the love fast and furious -- covering every possible angle of the angelic Madonna in never-ending news stories in the weeks leading up to a show. DJs will play her music non-stop. The papers will pen stories recounting the brilliance and longevity of her career. They'll hoot about her trendy love of kabbalah. Bars will sponsor lookalike contests. (And nobody will dress like her today, of course. They'll all be "80s Madonnas." Naturally.)
5. The show itself. How can you respect any show where there are more dancers than actual musicians on stage? She's not Riverdance! With costume changes every three minutes, she'll slink about-- not holding a microphone, of course ... a sleek headset instead -- moving in rhythm on stage with a legion of meat-head showponies. All choreographed like a bad Tony Robbins seminar.
I'm sorry. I can't go on. My stomach lining is falling apart. My fingers are aching in protest when I force them to type her name over and over again. And I'm starting to hear the intro to "Like a Prayer" repeating over and over again in my head.
If you're dying to see Madonna, buy a copy of National Enquirer. Or shell out $350 ticket for a floor seat in an arena near you. Me? I'm turning on VH1 Classic and hoping to catch her video for Crazy For You or Lucky Star. Or that Men at Work marathon.