Divas

On recent house visits, where the t.v. has been on as background noise, I’ve seen two rather fascinating and appalling concerts. The first was by Cher. She sang oldies, she wore wigs, she did her best to look 30 when she must be near 60. Her neck has no wrinkles and her face is the same mask it was years ago. Her dancers and musicians didn’t outshine her, and were not thin. Smart. But Cher was so funny in the old days, making sport of her beauty, and now what? How do we age gracefully? When do we bow out?
The second concert was by Madonna. I had heard that she was bringing back the highcut leotard, and there she was, not only in 1970s feathered-bangs hairstyle but also wearing a unitard! She’s muscled, she keeps up with her East L.A. dancers, but who can look good in a unitard? And a white one, too!
During this concert I was having a rather heated conversation with a prof friend about demeaning images of women I see around our department (I’ll write about them in another post), when Madonna stuck her hand down her pants and then licked her fingers. Which caused me to have to get down on bended knee in front of my friend and beg for forgiveness for my sex as he laughed his head off. Hell and damnation, one step forward and two back.