gaga

  gaga 

     I tried to fight it, I really did. At first I didn’t even like Lady Gaga. It wasn’t her fashion sense, or her display of individuality, because I am all for that. No. It was something else. I don’t know now what it was but I just didn’t like her. I didn’t want to like her. Maybe I didn’t give her a chance. Well all that changed.

    A recent road trip with my DH was the turning point in my relationship with Lady Gaga. That song ‘Poker Face’ is insipid and as ubiquitous as air at this point. Every radio station plays that tune constantly. Now, I don’t even listen to the conventional radio, but that didn’t help me escape. I listen to Sirius satellite radio, but the Gaga is even played there, everywhere. Literally she is in your face, in your po-po-po-poker face. So I caved. threw caution to the wind. And you know what? I discovered that she’s not all that bad.

    After about 2 hours on the road I think I played ‘Poker Face’ approximately 6,527 times. Well perhaps it was more like fifty, give or take. At one point I looked over at DH and asked, “How many more times do you think you can listen to this song before your head explodes?” to which he relied cheerfully, ” You know, I think I have a few more times in me!”. SO I did what every loving wife is inclined to do. I hit rewind. Again. And again.

    We listened to ‘Poker Face’ so many times that I even choreographed complicated car dancing moves. DH tried to dance along, but as he was the one behind the wheel, his movements were limited. I am sure that cars passing us by saw what was going on. I imagine people staring, thinking to themselves, what the heck is that girl doing? Why is she thrashing about so much? Are there BEES in their car? Nope. No bees. Just crazy people.

    You do what you have to to stay alert whilst driving on a road trip. Our car was transformed into something from Eurovision without the trashtastic clothing and pulsating light display. Lady Gaga provided the beat to which we danced until we laughed, albeit, confined to a small seat in a metal and glass box, speeding down the highway at 70 miles an hour. The journey seemed fast. And we arrived alert. Now if I could just get that damn song out of my head everything will be fine.

    That’s me then.

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Published in: on May 20, 2009 at 2:39 pm  Leave a Comment  
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