Where Has Sarah Brightman Gone?

Seriously? Where the hell is she?

Don't get me wrong, I'm not asking as a fan. I'm not saying "The world needs more Sarah Brightman so, DAMN IT! I want to see her represented more in mainstream pop culture!"

I'm also not asking where she's gone on her travels as of late.

And I'm not asking where she's gone spiritually.

No, I'm asking where pie-faced, mooney eyed, matronly little chunk of a Brit, Sarah Brightman has gone. This Sheryl Crowbot in her place that writhes in come-hither fashion and even manages to sex up the Ave Maria is NOT the Sarah Brightman I've known and (not) loved for the past 20 years.

See for yourself.

Sarah Brightman before:

Sarah Brightman after:

The only thing even slightly similar is that this is a chick who gets in front of the camera and always plays to her best side.

Photographer: Can we get a full-on shot of your face, Ms. Brightman?

Sarah: No! No you may not! It's a two-quarter turn to the right or it's nothing! Now get to clicking!

You know, it could just be that all this was documented diligently in the media, with as much furor as the incredible shrinking Star Jones story was a few years ago. Could be. I doubt it ... but still, it's a possibility. But I wouldn't know because I pretty much can't stand Sarah Brightman and wouldn't particularly gravitate toward any article written about her, scandalous or otherwise. I mean ... we've got a Britney Pandemic going on ... those oops-I-did-it-again antics of hers don't leave room in the shallow part of my brain for much else.

Sarah Brightman can't take all the credit for why I don't like her. It didn't start with her. It started with her warty little hobgoblin of a (now ex-) husband, Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber. I am not an Andrew Lloyd Webber fan. That's not to say Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat doesn't have it's moments ... and my Evita obsession roiled large, but that was a Madonna thing. I like to think that I like some of his music despite Andrew Lloyd Webber, not because of him.

A number of years ago I found out that Music of the Night was actually written as a stand alone piece and dropped into Phantom later -- written by Webber expressly for Brightman on the night they met. Imagining trollish little Andy cooing this pleading melody to Sarah as he tried to entice her into his lonely little midget bed left me feeling disgusting and rather voyeuristic. No matter who's crooning the lyrics, all I can envision is that creepy scene playing out in my head ...Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind, in this darkness which you know you cannot fight - the darkness of the music of the night . . . this odd little man with his odd little euphemism for sex. Floating, falling, sweet intoxication! Touch me, trust me savor each sensation! This kind of stuff is the exact OPPOSITE of an erotic siren song. And still, it must have done the trick cuz the broad not only touched him, trusted him, and savored each sensation ... she married him. With a shovel in her hand in place of a bouquet, the quicker to start the gold diggin' with.

So anyway, all this made it very hard for me to like Sarah Brightman, or to even care enough to follow her career. The next time I even noticed her was when she was inappropriately pawing her way through Time to Say Goodbye.

Yes, I get it. Andrea Bocelli is blind. He can't see you staring at him adoringly. So you've gotta drape your damn self across him like a drunken hooker. You know darn well that Andrea's thinking the whole time of extending the title to "Time to Say Goodbye, So Get Off of My Stage and Don't Call Me Because I've Changed My Phone Number. And You Can Just Forget About Coming With Me to Zurich on the 31st".

Oh, and just a little critical advice, if I may? If you're gonna sing a song in Italian, please get a dialect coach so I don't have to hear a romance language butchered by your stilted British affectation.

Any whoo, just wondering where Sarah Brightman's gone, and who's taken over her Kathy Griffin-esque celebrity status. So, if anyone's got any dirt on Ms. Brightman vis-à-vis plastic surgery, abduction, or a soul sold to the Devil, please let me know. It's been a slow-ish Britney week ...

One Two Tree Fo' ... This Is Rock and Roll!

Paved With Good Intentions -or- Quibbit Takes Luvvie Home For The Holidays

Planning to Travel to Michigan The Day After Christmas (In Theory):

• Quibbit starts looking up flights on Expedia in early November
• Quibbit books late afternoon non-stop direct flight for 2 from LaGuardia to Grand Rapids
• On day of flight Quibbit and Luvvie leisurely pack and call cab in plenty of time to make 6:00pm flight
• Quibbit and Luvvie go to airport, board plane, arrive in Grand Rapids 3 hours later, commence celebrating with Quibbit's family for Second Christmas

Traveling to Michigan The Day After Christmas (Reality):

• Spend Christmas day without Quibbit because he's come down with a 24 hour stomach virus
• Have Quibbit oversleep on December 26th well past the time he is supposed to be at apartment to pack
• ... the same day his cell phone experiences a glitch and doesn't work
• Frantically dial Quibbit for 2 hours hoping he didn't get sicker from 24 hour stomach virus and is laying helpless on the floor of his apartment
• Eventually dial Mom and ask her to investigate
• Pace maniacally, dialing Mom's cell every 10 minutes
• Listen as Mom speaks with roommate who confirms Quibbit is not laying dead on the floor
• Feel relief as Quibbit comes bounding through door of apartment armed with things to pack and stories of oversleeping and ill-timed, non-working phone

• Pack clothes and presents with less time than planned, forgetting essential items like Doc Marten boots
• Leave for airport in plenty of time
• Get to LaGuardia and find out direct Northwest Airlines flight to Grand Rapids has been cancelled
• Knit brow quizzically as ticket agent explains he's booked you both on a Delta flight to Cincinnati with connecting flight to Grand Rapids
• Hustle like hell when told that new flight leaves 45 minutes earlier
• Check all luggage -- so as not to be weighed down by carry-on bags

• Get stopped at security check point and get told you've been put on the Alarm List
• Go through a detailed security check while other people look at you and wonder if you're a terrorist
• Try not to look suspicious as you get patted down
• Get to gate just as flight is boarding
• Get to Cincinnati and make connecting flight easily, with enough time to sit in restaurant and have dinner
• Get to gate, board tiny plane, and take out current issue of Vanity Fair
• Finish up article about Angie Dickinson
• Proceed to read story about a glamorous New York Couple who become paranoid and convinced that the Scientologists are out to get them and subsequently commit suicide
• Show article to Quibbit and explain how the couple are very much like the Glamorous New York Couple Quibbit and Luvvie except for the paranoia and the suicide
• Laugh when stewardess gets on PA and tells full plane that the flight is delayed because "we can't find the pilot"
• Laugh again when, 1/2 hour later, same stewardess gets on PA and repeats first announcement
• Knit brow quizzically 1 hour later as same stewardess admits passengers must de-plane until replacement pilot is found
• Do STAR Magazine crossword puzzle with Quibbit to pass time at Gate 67 waiting for more information
• Watch as departure time is moved from 9:40pm to 10:20pm to 11:00pm to 11:40pm
• Find out at 11:15pm that flight has been cancelled due to "lack of staffing"
• Wiggle impatiently as Quibbit joins line to find out what's to become of we intrepid travelers
• Exclaim excitedly when told that passengers are being put up in local area hotels (Whee! An adventure!)
• Take shuttle to Hilton Hotel and use up 7 dollar "dinner" voucher on Sugar Corn Pops, cranberry juice and yogurt
• Remark to Quibbit that this is like your own personal version of The Amazing Race
• Watch I love New York 2 while brushing teeth with flimsy hotel toothbrush
• Sleep less than 5 hours and awake groggy
• Attempt to make in-room coffee with ice chips instead of water (see "awake groggy")
• Realize this is a fast and effective way to break in-room coffee maker
• Skip coffee and hope cost of coffee maker doesn't get charged back to you
• Arrive at airport bright and early, excited to get to Grand Rapids!
• Knit brow quizzically as ticket agent explains that yes, you've got a boarding pass and yes, you've got a seat assignment, and yes, everything LOOKS in order but no --- you are not actually booked on the flight
• Purse lips and glower as ticket agent explains that you can fly into Detroit instead and then take ground transportation -- a 3 hour drive -- to Grand Rapids
• Shake head "NO" several times throughout entire exchange but let Quibbit do the talking so as not to let your Brooklyn show
• Wait as ticket agent explains that you could also fly into South Bend, Indiana and get ground transportation to Grand Rapids -- only a 1.5 hour drive
• Marvel as Quibbit, who has flown only 5 times in his life, is level headed enough to express the need to be compensated with a free flight voucher for all of our trouble
• Give Quibbit a huge hug for being so cute
• Get ticketed for the South Bend flight which leaves in half an hour
• Run for gate to make plane
• Get flagged again and put on Alarm List when going through security
• Find no comfort in the fact that this time the Alarm List line contains a family with 3 young girls from 8 to 12 who all have to go through the same scrutiny
• Watch as guard goes through purse and takes an unusually long time flipping the pages of BITCH Magazine in an effort to extract whatever contraband must be contained within the pages of such a subversive periodical
• Ignore raised eyebrow of guard and try to appear innocent till process is finished
• Put shoes and belt back on while racing to gate
• Get on short flight to South Bend which is anti-climactic in it's uneventfulness
• De-plane
• Knit brow quizzically as ticket agent in South Bend explains that your luggage is en route to Grand Rapids without you
• Get in a stinky van that smells like cigarettes and settle in for a long drive to Grand Rapids with a driver who "thinks" she knows the way there
• Arrive at the Grand Rapids airport 2 hours later
• Knit brow quizzically as ticket agent explains that your luggage is sitting in the South Bend airport despite what they told you in Indiana
• Give Best Western address to ticket agent for when luggage DOES arrive
• Check into Best Western and ask for flimsy hotel toothbrush in case luggage doesn't make it
• Get luggage six hours later
• Start vacation 24 hours after departing LaGuardia

Of course, once the vacation got officially underway it was filled with Second Christmas joy --


Little boys rolling around on the floor amid wrapping paper, dressed in their new presents, while playing with other presents ...

Loads of pictures being taken as each gift is given, opened, and exclaimed over ...

Snowstorms and freezing walks to the nearest coffee house to load up on espresso drinks ...

Church service in a parish so small that Quibbit and I get a shout out from the pulpit ...

Long drives to sisters and back again ...

Discovering what a Ponderosa is ...

And the bittersweet moment that you hug everyone good bye and get back on that facakta plane ...




Giving your street in Brooklyn to the LaGuardia cab driver sans directions, safe in the knowledge that OF COURSE the driver knows your block ...

Getting a baloney sandwich from the 24 hour bagel place around the corner at 11:00pm, and then huddling close to your Boo on the Promenade waiting for midnight ...

Counting down to 2008 with other intrepid Brooklynites while watching the fireworks across the river ...

Walking home and watching Netflix till dawn ...


It's good to be back home.