Unreal! Pink's performance at Grammy's made me turn red
By Ann Ipock February 3, 2010
Okay, I want someone to enlighten me as to what has happened to the Grammy’s? It seems this former “family friendly” entertainment show, which began in 1958 and was first telecast in 1971, has sure changed! As I watched it on TV last night, I shuddered during a few parts. I’m not into rapping, especially with some of the lewd lyrics. Eminem, true to form, was bleeped almost to the point of silence. But what I really want to know is: What’s up with Pink’s “Up in the air” performance? No pun intended. Her raunchy performance of “Glitter in the Air” was—well, what was it I just said? Raunchy. Right. I was embarrassed for her!
Early in the evening, I called my sister, Nancy, in Raleigh to chat. Hub-Russ says we don’t chat because chatting means a five-minute catch-up on the last week or so. Maybe he’s right. We talk upwards to an hour or more here lately. If you’ve read my column for very long you know I HATE to talk on the phone, I really do! But with Nancy, it’s different. There’s always something fresh and new to discuss—important topics like shoe shopping (or, boots for her, since Raleigh just got six inches of snow) and grandchildren. Her 20-month old grandson, Reid, is not only talking a little, but demonstrating “Praise the Lord” by throwing his arms up over his head, thanks to his parents, Heather and Huck. Our two granddaughters are also busy and interesting: Madison is baking and selling cookies for a 3rd grade school project. I bought four dozen and Russell bought three dozen. Uh-oh! No more skinny jeans for us! Carly is busy preparing to go to a new preschool in the fall, when she turns five.
But back to Nancy and the Grammy’s. She reminded me they had begun, though I missed the first ten minutes or so. Hearing her description of Pink’s performance, I couldn’t imagine—so, I ran to my computer and checked “You Tube.” Sure ’nuff, her performance was already up and running. Okay, let me say when she made her glamorous entrance, it was fine, even lovely, I might add. She was fully clothed in a gorgeous white hooded robe, though someone forgot to sew the bodice together. Anyway, she strutted about in her six-inch stilettos, singing demurely until—Whoa! She threw the robe off and strutted over to a platform, then went, up, up, up, like a trapeze artist! This time she had on nothing but some white ribbons criss-crossing her taut-and-toned body—but those dang stilettos were still in place. It made my Achilles tendinitis hurt just looking at them. She continued upward, gracefully swaying, yet oddly, holding onto the mike and still singing. As for me, well, I couldn’t have sung the song anyway—but how did she manage to have enough breath to continue? Speaking of breath, the audience appeared breathless. I know, because the camera scanned them—but only for a few seconds. Next came her team of three also nearly-nude gymnasts, soaring even higher, women whose bodies were even more perfect than Pink’s (that’s hard to imagine) making aerobic flips and dips, as if skydiving, then soaring back to the beginning, each conforming to the shape of a star. Oh, but wait ‘til I tell you how “it” ended—(whatever “it” is). Pink came down, just like the circus-show performance began—magnificently and flawlessly, twisting, twirling and turning. But this time, y’all, there was water being sprayed all over her! What in the WORLD the water was suppose to signify, I have no idea. I do know it turned her trendy-short, platinum blonde hair into a matted glob of separated straw. I’m serious. The white material which had cradled her before, was now also soaked, highlighting WAY MORE of her lower torso than I cared to see. Eeeew! Get the picture? And it appears part of the audience also got wet from her shaking-like-a-dog ending, though I can’t confirm that since I wasn’t there. Thank goodness!
I scanned today’s headlines to see what the general consensus was about Pink, because frankly, I was speechless. But there was no mention of her. No siree! It was all about Beyonce making history with six Grammy awards. She won best female pop vocal for her soaring ballad “Halo.” And why not? It’s a good song. She (and three other writers) also won the song writing trophy for the catchy tune, “Single Ladies, Put a Ring On It,” another good, make that, really good song. Other names were mentioned, but not Pink.
Still, I’m fixated on Pink’s performance. You may think I’m just jealous because of one of the following: A) I don’t have a body, or face, or hair, like hers. B) I can’t sing like her. C) I’m not as young as her. D) I’m no trapeze artist. Wrong! It’s ALL of these reasons! I guess somebody there was happy though: It appears Pink got a standing ovation. Or, did she? Maybe folks were just trying to dry off, you know?