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| From | "Sager, Greg" <greg.sager@bankofamerica.com> |
| Subject | Re: Michael Bolton |
| Date | Wed, 31 Mar 2004 00:28:08 -0600 |
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Date: Tue, 30 Mar 2004 19:42:47 -0000
From: "steven_durben" <Steven.Durben@cignabehavioral.com>
To: audities@smoe.org
Subject: Re: worst bands
Message-ID: <c4cijn+j49l@eGroups.com>
Regarding Michael Bolton...
I've never knowingly met a Michael Bolton fan. NEVER. Not even by
pure happenstance. Im just so curious given the volumes of stuff he
sold. Could there be a secret cult I know nothing about?
I actually have a friend whom I met on another Internet list who is an open
and unabashed Michael Bolton fanatic. She holds a Ph.D. in music and is the
head music librarian at a large midwestern university. She's in her late
thirties, is highly intelligent, happily married, and doesn't appear to have
suffered from brain tumors, drug addiction, an anvil dropped on her head, or
anything else that might've caused the sort of neurological damage that one
would presuppose in an otherwise-intelligent Michael Bolton fanatic.
Her academic credentials give her a certain amount of rhetorical juice when
we engage in one of our frequent friendly arguments about Bolton's merits,
but in the end her frequent references to his leonine hairdo and her
attraction to long-haired men undermine her scholarly credibility. I mean,
hey, I think Izabella Skorupco's hot, but you're never going to see me
defend *her* music.
She's pretty used to defending both Bolton and her own taste; she says that
people constantly put Bolton down in her presence once they find out that
she likes him and his music. She gets quite exercised about the fact that
hitherto-polite people will dump on Bolton at the drop of a hat, not in
spite of the fact that she likes him but *because* she likes him. It's as
though liking Bolton is a serious-enough social faux pas that people
consider it a license to demean him in her presence, which she finds quite
rude. She has a point. Nevertheless, since she and I are friends and I
actually try to debate her upon the man's musical merits while taking her
arguments seriously (we went round and round for weeks on whether or not his
cover of "When a Man Loves a Woman" did Percy Sledge a favor or not), she
takes it in stride when I launch salvos at her hero.
And, believe me, I do. There's nothing quite like having a friend whom you
can tease about Michael Bolton and get away with it. Among the epithets I've
used to refer to Bolton in our discussions are "the Sheik of Shriek", "Soul
Stepbrother Number One", "the Hollering Hairdo", "the Bellow Fellow", "the
Miasma of Melisma", "Michael Boil-tone", and my all-time favorite, "the
Hunky Hunky Howler Monkey".
Gregory Sager
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