And a rap by little ol' me, Lamar
Last week, Stacy sent me an e-mail that said this:
*****
Friday night we went to see a band. The lead singer looked exactly like Booger from "Revenge of the Nerds" but was really talented. So after the show we go to this really cool, gritty bar/club called the Liar's Club. Great place with a great name. We were dancing and on comes "It's Getting Hot in Here." We look over and some dude was taking the next line of the song quite literally and was dancing stark naked. Alrighty then. After the song, he puts his clothes back on (including a T-shirt that said "It's good to party but better to party naked") and sat at the bar for a drink. Then in walks the band we'd just seen. Pretty random night.
*****
My favorite part of her e-mail was the use of the word "but" in the correlation between looking like Booger and being talented. People don't look at Booger and think, Wow, what a TALENT; he really expresses his art in an innovative way. (Although he DID play lead guitar, so that's gotta be something.) What's kind of meta about this is that you can say that Curtis Armstrong himself is talented even though he is Booger in every sense. If a guy who looks like Booger can't possibly be talented, what happens when the guy who IS Booger ... is?
This is how Booger Booger is:
One year when I came home from camp, my parents took me and my sisters to Charlie's Crab in Troy, Michigan, sort of a "welcome home, sorry you had to eat all that crap food all summer" present. It's a nice restaurant, not hoity-toity but not waiters-singing-a-newfangled-version-of-Happy-Birthday-at-your-table casual. The bathrooms are located right at the entrance to the restaurant, and just as we were walking in, a guy wearing a grey suit darts past us in a flurry and rushes into the men's room. I stopped for a second, did a double-take, and looked at the hostess. She was wearing a Laura Ashley–style frock with blue and pink flowers and white lace pilgrim collar, sensible navy flats and a Marie Osmond pert bob haircut that didn't move. She looked back at me and smiled. I said, "Excuse me, was that ..." She nodded and giggled a little, though quietly. I said, "That was ... right?" She nodded knowingly, and in her best third-grade reading teacher voice said, "Yes, dear. That's right. That was Booger."
Also, I just realized that an anagram of Lamar is Marla. This explains everything.
*****
Friday night we went to see a band. The lead singer looked exactly like Booger from "Revenge of the Nerds" but was really talented. So after the show we go to this really cool, gritty bar/club called the Liar's Club. Great place with a great name. We were dancing and on comes "It's Getting Hot in Here." We look over and some dude was taking the next line of the song quite literally and was dancing stark naked. Alrighty then. After the song, he puts his clothes back on (including a T-shirt that said "It's good to party but better to party naked") and sat at the bar for a drink. Then in walks the band we'd just seen. Pretty random night.
*****
My favorite part of her e-mail was the use of the word "but" in the correlation between looking like Booger and being talented. People don't look at Booger and think, Wow, what a TALENT; he really expresses his art in an innovative way. (Although he DID play lead guitar, so that's gotta be something.) What's kind of meta about this is that you can say that Curtis Armstrong himself is talented even though he is Booger in every sense. If a guy who looks like Booger can't possibly be talented, what happens when the guy who IS Booger ... is?
This is how Booger Booger is:
One year when I came home from camp, my parents took me and my sisters to Charlie's Crab in Troy, Michigan, sort of a "welcome home, sorry you had to eat all that crap food all summer" present. It's a nice restaurant, not hoity-toity but not waiters-singing-a-newfangled-version-of-Happy-Birthday-at-your-table casual. The bathrooms are located right at the entrance to the restaurant, and just as we were walking in, a guy wearing a grey suit darts past us in a flurry and rushes into the men's room. I stopped for a second, did a double-take, and looked at the hostess. She was wearing a Laura Ashley–style frock with blue and pink flowers and white lace pilgrim collar, sensible navy flats and a Marie Osmond pert bob haircut that didn't move. She looked back at me and smiled. I said, "Excuse me, was that ..." She nodded and giggled a little, though quietly. I said, "That was ... right?" She nodded knowingly, and in her best third-grade reading teacher voice said, "Yes, dear. That's right. That was Booger."
Also, I just realized that an anagram of Lamar is Marla. This explains everything.
Labels: childhood, Detroit, friends, pop culture
posted by Marla at 11:59 AM
1 Comments:
shouldn't it be laMar?
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