"Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious Ambiguity." ~ Gilda Radner

Tuesday, January 01, 2008

There's Only One Thing More Depressing Than Cleaning The Basement on New Year's Eve...

And that is watching poor, old Dick Clark on his New Year's Rockin' Eve show.

Yikes-A-Roni!

Did you happen to see him?

I mean I admire the guy for coming back to co-host the celebratory glittery-ball-dropping-on-Times-Square show after his stroke a few years' back...after all, he was a New Year's Eve staple for so many, many years.

But, frankly -- and with all due respect to the elderly and ailing TV icon -- at this point, the words "Dick Clark" and "rockin' New Year's Eve" (emphasis on rockin') really don't jive. It's sort of like when John and I put my old KC and The Sunshine Band album on my stereo and attempt to do the bump to "Get Down Tonight" in the middle of the living room, and Daniel just shudders and hides in his room.

Know what I mean? It's like when you were a kid and you saw your parents kiss. Remember how they just seemed to be too darn old to still be trying to act so young?

In all honesty, I found it absolutely heartbreaking and downright depressing to watch...and listening to Mr. Clark slur his words and, at one point, cough and hack as he tried to wish everyone a Happy New Year...well, it was just too much for this ol' gal.

I had to turn it off.

Geeze, I remember all those years watching Dick Clark with awesome wonder...how did he manage to stay looking so young? And each New Year's Eve, his loving wife would come out and give him a kiss, and my friends and I would literally cackle over how utterly old she looked next to her seemingly ageless husband.

The poor guy...

Now don't get me wrong...I can take a lot of depressing entertainment with the best of them. I mean, I'm the gal who would never dream of missing the annual "Hail and Farewell" segment of CBS Sunday Morning...you know, the tribute (always set to hauntingly sorrowful music and commentary) -- to all the famous people who died during the old year and will no longer be with us in the new.

(And as such, I must note here that I was more than a little disappointed that they did not include the recently late Dan Fogelberg in this year's tribute....ahem...however, they ended the tribute with a clip of the late Robert Goulett singing "If Ever I Would Leave You" from Camelot, and that was more than enough to open the floodgate of tears, thank you very much.)

Or give me a good old fashioned always-without-a-doubt-guaranteed-to-yank-the-tears-right-outta-ya Hallmark Movie any time, day or night. I'm there, I'm cryin'...and the more tears the better.

But there was just something so absolutely and heart-wrenchingly pathetic about seeing Dick Clark on TV last night that even I -- Miss Eternal Empath and quintessential poster child for the morosely and incurably sensitive (yet wouldn't have it any other way) types -- could not take.

I imagine my husband might have felt that very same thing when I went through my Madonna Wanna-Be stage in my late 20s...it took him years but he finally confessed -- it made him squeamish. Uncomfortable.

In other words, it just wasn't right. But John and all my friends, bless their hearts, humored me my Madonna stage-- fingerless lace gloves, bright red lipstick, giant hair bows, stretch pants, dangly earrings and all.

And maybe that's what bothered me the most...what if the new, younger and truly rockin' New Year's Rockin Eve hosts and hostesses that have replaced Dick Clark are just humoring him? Like, what if they are thinkin', "Would somebody PLEASE give this ol' guy the hook? Let's cut to a commerical, quick!" And that made me sad. Too sad.

I guess I just prefer to think of Dick Clark as the young, handsome and truly groovin' Dick Clark from his American Bandstand days from back in the day.

And maybe, just maybe, that's how I prefer to remember myself -- young and groovin' , dressin' like Madonna and still doin' the bump...not old and tired, and pawing through moldy totes on New Year's Eve.

Ouch.

Sometimes the truth, if you can stand to face it, really does hurt.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Annie---love your blog and read it often. You are a wonderful writer and a classy lady.
My husband and I have a 5 year old-and we were all sound asleep by midnight on New Year's Eve!
Take Care!
Bobbi

annie said...

Well, Bobbi, that makes me feel a little bit better! LOL... Thanks for dropping by...ready for Caucus Night??