27 March 2011

Celine Dion On Television

"We're not watching this shit," I said to Sonja. It was Celine Dion on my television.

"Yes we are," Sonja corrected me. "She's Canadian."

I hate it when I get the red and white waved in my face, especially when the red and white is really blue and white. Celine is Canadian as fuck I guess. I watched.

For two hours.

Two hours of crap.

It was one of those evenings beer was made for.

Or so I thought.

As Celine stretched the fuck out of a high note Sonja reached for the sharpest knife in the drawer. "Anne Murray can't sing like that."

Sonja was right. Celine screeched away like a Quebec city without a modern hockey arena. "Anne Murray might not be able to sing like Celine," I agreed, "but Celine cannot sing like Anne Murray either."

It was my turn to be right. It felt good. The show would be over soon. I drank my beer.


Anonymous said...


istvan said...

We know Ann Murray.

ib said...

Be thankful it was not 'Dancing on Ice'. I know you have a thing for lacrosse on skates, but I have had three months of this shit. Saturdays and Sundays. Seems like longer. I would sooner do time in gaol.

Then there is the X Factor; Pop Idol; a host of homogenized blandness.

The auditions might be savagely enthralling, but the totality has all but snuffed any last flicker of defiance into oblivion.

Like a guttering candle. Sung by a twenty-four-year-old at a piano in sequins.

I have resumed my drinking in earnest not to forget but to momentarily blur the crisp edges of the flat screen.