"Bye-Bye" to Miss God Bless the USA

Dang, I just learned this week that I’m not a real man. Somebody wrote a letter to The Advocate complaining that I was “picking on” Dolly Parton and that it logically followed that I was an “old queen” and not a “real man.”

The gays are touchy and hate it when you goof on their divas. (All I said was that she probably, maybe, quite possibly had a nose made of glass now. Is that so bad? It doesn’t take one thing away from her genius as an artist. And she is that. A genius, I mean. And really, who among us besides her surgical team has the answers to what is going on with Dolly’s face? It might not even be glass. It might be a kind of injected, moldable polymer. It could even be titanium, making her 3% cyborg, which would be AWESOME if you think about it. Also, I never said it was wrong to de-oldify your face, no matter how odd you wind up looking. See how gentle and playful I was being?) Anyway, the same thing happened to me when I wrote something nonworshipful about Diana Ross once. I got rebuked.

But let’s stop fighting, gays. I’m your friend. One of you, in fact. Except not a real man anymore. Which is a bummer. But I can live with this new reality. I guess I’ll have to.

It’s Mariah-Carey-as-mentor week on AI. And I was all set. This was going to be a gold mine of weirdness, of loony Mariah Carey-isms. But something very strange is going on in Mariah-land lately. She seems to be…this almost hurts to write…not entirely out of her mind.

Back in the good old days of Glitter, “exhaustion,” TRL Popsicle-based entertainment moments, “Loverboy” videos that consisted of her caressing her own breasts to the exclusion of all other activities, and that monumental, flabbergasting Cribs appearance, you could count on Mariah for a sweet dose of reality-disconnection.

But then I saw her on Oprah. And she seemed all normal, foxy and sane and thinner, but not in that Posh Spice way where you have to just sort of smell a lemon for breakfast and pretend you ate it. My friend Dennis and I immediately e-mailed each other. His message to me: “I’m obsessed with how Oprah tried to tie Mariah's diet into something 'spiritual' and Mariah wasn't having it. She's like, 'Thanks to this French lady who works for me now, I never eat anything fun because I want to look hot.’ It's that simple and it has nothing to do with the Secret or my higher self or an aha moment.”

And then after she and Oprah talked about eating artichokes for dinner and we got to watch Mariah do water aerobics (guided by ze French lady who kicks fat American ass) in her personal lap pool with a chandelier hanging over it, Mariah sang her new single, “Bye Bye,” which is about dead people. Not kidding. It’s actually a “let me see you put your hands up” slow jam about dead people.

OK, the show:

Minnie Driver is in the audience, and she’s right in front of Dennis Blunden from Head of the Class. What follows is a transcription of a conversation I had with my friend Kev, who is kind of obsessed with Dennis Blunden:

Kev: The principal would yell “Blunden!” when he was mad.

Me: I never watched that show once. So I’m turning to you for information on this guy.

Kev: It was amazing.

Me: I don’t believe you.

Kev: And it sort of holds up. The interesting thing is that it focused on politics. It was an interesting slice of mid-'80s political climate.

Me: I like that there's an "interesting thing" about Head of the Class.

Kev: It’s not the only interesting thing!

Me: Tell me more.

Kev: It's not that it didn't fall into sitcom tropes. A brand-new character was introduced that everyone loved who then got Alzheimer's. Same thing with this kid who was illiterate.

Me: So you’re saying that it touched on sensitive issues.

Kev: Oh, yes. And they had an Alex P. Keaton character named Alan.

Me: Alan B. Meaton?

Kev: No! Alan Pinkard!

Me: How old were you when this show was on the air?

Kev: Eleven. And “Dennis Blunden” was my first crush.

Me: Exactly the right age for a pre-pube “why do my pants feel funny” moment.

Kev: Exactly. He later went on to write Good Burger and a bunch of other stuff.

So that makes two Good Burger moments in two weeks on Idol. Maybe Sinbad couldn’t come back this week and gave him his unused ticket? Teri Hatcher is back too, probably hoping they’ll let her sing again. She might want her stab at “I Believe.”