This is a love story.
There’s really no way for a 44 year old man to write what I’m about to write without provoking valid and concerning reaction. But I’m a fan of Christina Aguilera. I’ve realized, for some time, that she’s got incredible talent. And I can listen to just about anything she has out there. Granted, I wouldn’t be able to point you in the direction of her Mousekateer stuff, but she’s got legitimate pipes. And it really is about her talent. Trust me; she ain’t no Patti Smith as far as relationship material is concerned.
And I’ve been crushing on Cher for as long as I can remember. Seriously … her variety show is probably one of my earliest television memories. About that time, Sonny Bono was touring through our home town and the hospital at which my parents worked wanted to present him with a special thanks. My dad, as I recall, edited the hospital newsletter, so I got my picture taken presenting him with a cast taken off some employee from the knee down. Upon it was written “Break a Leg, Sonny!” If you look closely at the picture, you’ll see my eyes wandering the perimeter looking for her.
But when Marianne placed Burlesque at the top of our Netflix que, I played it cool. “Oh … sure … I’ll watch it with you.” I mean, it’s really only fair. That’s what relationships are all about and she’s endured countless movies that I’ve needed to see – mostly dealing with running legends and documentaries concerning corporate greed.
When Marianne and I first met, we became fast friends. As children of the 70s and 80s, we’d recall our odd memories, quote our favorite sitcoms of yesteryear, and we soon realized we were quite compatible. Karaoke was involved, and she already knew all the words to “I Got You Babe.” This was going to work out just fine. But Marianne took Cher admiration to an entirely new level. Honestly, I pretty much just backed off and let the master show me how a fan should really behave. She had the Cher doll saved among her childhood treasures … long ago having lost the costumes (nothing to see here, folks) … and she could sing along with songs I had never even heard. She can do the Cher hair toss, too.
And isn’t that how it goes with the one you’re meant to love forever? You’re suddenly taking on all sorts of new interests you didn’t even realize you had? And you balance one another on a new adventure? Yes, that’s exactly how it goes. She taught me Cher on a deeper level, musical theater, and baked mac and cheese from scratch. I taught her road races, dog breeds, and Joey Ramone.
And tonight, we sat on the couch and watched absolute and glorious camp together. Perfect.