Oh boy! It's the morning after the Oscars and for us Hollywood (adjacent) types, that's the end of the serious award season. The unencumbered now, can get on with creating next years' trinket tuggers. Or whatever. You know we'll all be hard at it, waiters/writers, ballet teachers/costume designers, gas men/guitarists, whatevers/whatevers. I never know which side of a Slash makes me happier. Before or After. Perhaps neither. What if all the parking valets became stars? What would happen to my car while I am eating, drinking or dancing? What if, instead of flapping her arms and flailing around a failed prima ballerina my daughter had no one to lead her class, such was the demand for celluloid costumiers? And suddenly there would be no reason for daddy parents to be in class either.
As these gargantuan confluences go - and good god does the world make the wwf look unscripted, a Kathryn Bigelow shattered a glass ceiling, really, I heard it, and won a best director Oscar. And it was already International Women's Day somewhere as she did. Oh well, I thought, as I'd been thinking for some time, it's time for Beyoncé to have a baby. It is, last time I looked, it's womens work after all.
I don't. I don't usually interject myself into other peoples' affairs. I don't. My personality over time has become more and more forceless as I become less and less visible. But with 6 Grammy's this year alone, 9 to dust if you count the three Jay-Z brought home... Really, Beyoncé, it is time to have a baby... It's not only that I can't think of anything else that might slow you down and give me a chance to re-interject my never-less trusty Gibson 335 into the worlds' musical affairs, not that I care about that. Really. But your judgement, all that to the left to the left stuff a few years back when I thought for some reason you sounded so experienced you must have been 28 already. It's that crazy in love put a ring on it clarity I'd love you to apply to an entire post-natal album of songs. I mean it.
I'm sure I'm not alone is saying, we did put a ring on it and OMG now we really need to know what to do next. The Happiest Baby on the Block...(There's a video for that), The Swaddling...(There's a video for that). The How to Not Reward Tantrums, Yet Bring Them to a Swift Conclusion? Is There a Better Way to Say it's Good to Eat Your Broccoli Because It Will Make You Poop? (And to not hear your words later echoing around granny's dinner table). Where are the pop songs for that? How to restore the requisite romance between the grown ups among all the snotty tears...
If it can be done, if anyone can do it in song, Beyoncé can. It's time to have a baby and get one with some serious work.
