Liars and Saints

 The best subjects of parody are people with over-the-top mannerisms: Patti LuPone, Nicole Kidman, Donald Trump. I suspect Celine Dion has been generally overlooked because an actor would need to reproduce her singing voice (on top of her mannerisms). But--amazingly--Ariana Grande can do both the voice and the weird behavioral tics. The actual skit is fine (not rising above the designation "fine")....but Grande's looniness is special. It reminds me of the full-blast craziness of Chloe Fineman. Also, Cynthia Erivo is upset this week because people don't like that John Chu has tinkered with the iconic "Wicked on Broadway" poster. I can't take Cynthia Erivo's side here. You don't alter one of the most famous ads in Broadway history. This was a misstep. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yvW7jtD8ZEY

  Ariana Grande has one of the songs of the year, according to the NYTimes--and it's a letter to a former friend. (Critics have suggested it's really a way of talking about a star's relationship with the media, and it's easy to see that layer in the verses.) Ariana gives her reasons for "an Irish exit." The most recent fight was explosive. "I don't wanna tiptoe, but I don't wanna hide--but I don't want to feed this monstrous fire." What makes the song so interesting is that Ariana concedes something like ambivalence. She isn't simply empowered by walking away; she obviously feels regret (or one-half of her feels regret). We can't be friends-- But I'd like to just pretend. You cling to your papers and pens-- Wait until you like me again. The sense of ambivalence recurs in the strange bridge: Know that you made me-- Don't like how you paint me, yet I'm still here hanging. Not what you made me-- It's almost like a day...

 Every community has a glamorous lady -- and, for Maplewood, the lady is L. L lives three doors down from me. When I spot her and ask about her state of mind, she sighs deeply and says, "I'm mourning the position of women in this country." She goes on: "I'm not depressed? I'm not anxious? I'm  languishing.  Read the Times. It's a thing, it's called  languishing ." I offer that my life has recently become a bit more colorful, because I have some proofreading jobs. "That's nice," says L. "I'm working with Brooke Shields. I'm producing her documentary about her teen years. Brooke says,  You think the Britney stuff was bad?  It's time to hear MY story ...." I nod, as if we've all "been there." "Of course," adds L, "the big bulk of my time is going to my true crime film. Have I mentioned that? TELL THEM WHAT YOU DID. The entire town knows the identity of the murderer. They're say...

*The Starbucks at Sheridan Square. Yes, everyone hates Starbucks, and everyone continues to visit. Just a reminder, here, that I despise, despise, despise Starbucks, which eats around five of my dollars every day. I despise the meaningless corporate lingo. I especially despise the Starbucks near my work, which has a mural with the inane words: "One Person, One Cup, One Community." What can that mean? I hate that it has a cheap aura of faux-profundity: how the repetition of the word "one" might lead you to believe that the words are actually conveying something. I also hate the "e pluribus unum" vibe. We are a community because we all shop at Starbucks? Really? *The Ariana Grande trick. This is the trick: "You think that I loathe adversity, but in fact, I welcome it, because it gives me new strength." This was interesting with "No Tears Left to Cry," but it was less interesting with "Thank U, Next." Ariana--who says she never...

Thinning hair ought to teach us about self-acceptance. And yet it doesn't. It doesn't teach me that. I stare at the large patches of my scalp, newly visible, when I step out of the shower, and I am reminded of a startled baby bird. It's not a good look. My "volumizing" conditioner seems to puff up certain areas, but a natural event--say, a mild windstorm--can very quickly undo the work of that magic formula. And then a disturbing word pops into my head, and that word is "combover." I think of Nora Ephron, who bravely ranted about her wrinkled neck as she grew older. I think of Ariana Grande, who claims to welcome setbacks: "Cuz shit grew from the drama." And I think: I don't really believe you, Ariana. That may be part of the story. But it's not the whole story. I feel deeply, cosmically cheated. I heard somewhere, in childhood, that if you have a maternal grandfather with a full head of hair, then you're secure--for life--hai...