I’m not much of an awards show person. I really enjoy going to see movies, I am learning that I find theater borderline fascinating, and when someone asks what kind of music I like I almost want to laugh. Country? yeah. Rock? I’ll jam. Folk-rock? true genre. Pop? Totes.
But the awards shows? I usually forget to watch them.
The Grammy’s award show tonight, for some reason, was my #1 priority. I rushed home from Sunday night pizza with a bit of my family to ensure I didn’t miss too much show time. I sprinted into my home and my dad happened to be in the kitchen. He welcomed me with, “Grammy’s are on, holla!” (yes, he was mocking me, he could care less). I ran passed him holding up a bottle of wine and a glass squealing, “EEEEEEEE!” down to the t.v. room.
I literally have been blown away by this entire show (no, that’s a lie, I am still on my couch, not “literally” blown anywhere, so I should have said figuratively. “I figuratively have been blown away by the entire show”). There has been such a wild variety of genres. From Taylor Swift to Fun. to the Lumineers, to Gotye, to an incredible compilation from Elton John, the Zac Brown Band, Brittany Howard from Alabama Shakes and Mavis Staples, to a super rad tribute to Bob Marley by Bruno Mars mixing his talents with Rihanna, Bob Marley’s own sons Ziggy and Damien (thanks for the save Betsy Krikke), and Sting? What?! I don’t know who thought to invite him into the mix, but I suppose that’s why I’m not in charge of those decisions. Do you feel like an ass for not watching yet?
One thing I noticed that’s really wonderful about this year’s Grammy’s is that no one was sickly thin. Amen to my curvy broads! Do what you need to do to stuff those love handles away, ladies! No matter what, I like your style.
Also, I need to give a quick shout out to Taylor Swift. She has 9 billion haters and yes, many, many fans also, but seriously, 9 billion haters. Even her fans are oftentimes defensive, “What?! No! I don’t like T-Swizzle! No way!” (their iTunes “recently played” list suggests otherwise). And yet, she’s opening for the Grammy’s and still being super sweet to everyone and then singing every lyric to every artist performing on stage. She and I must share the affection for the same quote, “haters gonna hate.”
We can bash on Frank Ocean a bit. What the shit? Forest Gump song? He had a sweat band around his head, pretend legs running on a screen where his real legs should be, key was weirdly off, and then he just started whistling. Don’t worry, my opinion is the last he cares about. But, really?
We all knew Mumford & Sons would win for album of the year, right? Still, my entire heart wanted Fun. to take that one. They are just the bees knees. (they did win song of the year, yes and hurray)
Do you have a case of award show hatred? That’s fine. We’d hate for anything to bring you entertainment outside of your daily life. Yeehaw!
Good news: My bottle of wine is not gone yet, but I’ll keep working on it.
To Italy and their grapes and to all those vocal ranges that encourage me to belt in the car,
P.S. Gentlemen, it’s Valentine’s week. Don’t eff up and not do anything for your lady. At the very least, get her a card, or chocolate, or a really great high five. I beseech you. Do something, even if she asked you not to.
And then thank me later.