Reaching out for something to hold / Looking for a love where the climate is cold

Today while sewing the Project of Ravelling Fabric Fuckery I had the pleasure of my husband’s laptop and a Rhapsody station. During the first half I elected listening to Hall & Oates. I should probably confess I have this deep and secret fantasy where my brother and I dress as the duo for Halloween (I’m telling you, the resemblance is already halfway there). Included in this little fantasy is also the fact we’d be performing some of their songs, I’m not sure how or in what venue, and this really makes little sense because I’m not sure either my brother nor I can sing, especially not at the levels of prowess this “blue-eyed soul” (Rhapsody genre names are fun!) pair evidences. Oh and my brother probably wouldn’t do this, ever. But a girl can dream, can’t she?

(Until today I’d misheard the line as “broken eyes still melt in the sun”, a gruesome image from my childhood, and P.S. I sincerely want that fashion for myself!)

More goodness, and I love how Oates is just kind of lurking back there:

(Two points: Oates’ MAGIC EYE BLINKS at 1:30 et al are awesome; secondly my sister is an actual private eye, which is obviously quite relevant, although as young ones we dressed up as Boy George (her) and Blondie (me), and Yes I’ll dig up a picture soon!)

Another one from my childhood. Even today this song strikes me as deeply moving but also very corny. I guess I really like that combo. Plus it reminds me of that time I went to that strip club with the pre-tornado Kansas wheat field theme:

(Embedding was disabled but you can view the video I remember – a better one – here.)

Video exposure to Tina Turner and Chaka Khan in the 80s was the first time I remember having the distinct pre-pubescent knowledge of a beauty I could never have. No jealousy or envy or confusion; I was unabashedly enamored with and amazed by their presence, their embodiment of Diva (although I didn’t know that word yet). I can still remember exactly where I was sitting and at what house I first saw the latter’s video for “I Feel For You” (I couldn’t find this video but I did have a great YouTube surf looking for it). I like feeling like a kid again every now and then.

Reliving this hit made me titter at my sewing machine. Probably because of the Scary Movie send-up, but the video itself is not without a giggle… Especially because the lyrics also sounded so inappropriately stalky and the video apparently decided to go with that:

(OK, a rather beautiful song but still. Phone calls like that? Don’t do ’em. Also: blind girls. EXTRA-SMILEY, virginal, passive and adorable – and far easier to stealthily follow!)

More Lionel Ritchie, but my point is I had the hots for Mikhail Baryshnikov when White Nights came out. I don’t remember anything about the film at all. Except Baryshnikov’s pants. Look, I was about eight. I still really like to watch men dance well.

In other news this performance came through the tweetstream today. Seriously, every time I watch Freddie Mercury live I feel so sad, joyful, fierce, weepy, amazed, enthralled:

OK, now don’t stay up all night practicing your white-guy hopping-and-bobbing-around dance movies!

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