Sideways Maneuver Just Wants To Be Your Everything

Only a manchild as sexy as Andy Gibb could get away with wearing an unzipped satin cricket jacket, even in 1977. 78% of male America was unbuttoning their shirts back then, due in no small part to cocaine, and it was simply a bad decision for all of 'em, save Andy and possibly two of his older Gibb brothers from the BeeGees...Linda Ronstadt coulda pulled it off, if it wasn't for her perky tits. America was almost as afraid of perky tits back then as we are today.

But I digress.

I think this video proves my long-held theory (nay, belief), that the bigger one's teeth, the bigger the success. Whiteness certainly counts, but size matters most. Try thinking of a famous person with small teeth. I can't, but I don't really want to right now.

I digress.

I might be wrong, but I'm fairly certain Andy Gibb was singlehandedly responsible (Rex Smith and Shaun Cassidy probably factor, but barely enough to mention) for my sister Starsky going through puberty when she was 10 years old, and what I mean, you pervert, is that he exuded soooo much sexiness on his album covers and posters and Tiger Beat photo spreads and appearances on American Bandstand that my sister literally willed herself to become a woman. That's fucking sexy, babycakes, and Andy had it 100%. The only man who possibly had that much sex power in 1977 was Burt Reynolds, but he wasn't for the little girls like Andy was. Burt was for the ladies, like my mom, who had her copy of Cosmo with the naked centerfold neatly tucked at the bottom of her stack of cooking and sewing magazines in the dining room. It was the only copy of Cosmo she ever owned, such was the power of Burt on the housewives of that decade, but now I'm really digressing...

Hotcha! Hank

Something 4 The Weekend # 139

Andy Gibb: Shadow Dancing: "Shadow Dancing" [mp3]

Guilty pleasures. I don't believe in 'em.

This non-belief fits into my philosophy (certainly not original) that there is no such thing as "good" and "bad" music. I mean, there's an argument to be made that some songs are better written than others, that they follow certain "rules" of songwriting (intro, verse, chorus, verse, chorus, bridge, verse, chorus, outro), and utilize specific chord groups and progressions (G, C, G, C, D, C) that for reasons that can't really be explained except to say that they are familiar and comforting to our collective intellectual and aesthetic sensibilities. But these "rules" offer no quantifiable proof that a song is "good" or "bad". Music is simply too deeply wired into our brains and souls and culture to be qualified in such a way. We (as individuals) either like a particular song and/or musician, or we don't (or sometimes we're simply ambivalent), and that's a truth that most of us don't figure out until we're older, and categorizing everything as "sucking" or "not sucking" is no longer a satisfying game to play.

I like Andy Gibb, and I like this song, and there's absolutely nothing to feel guilty about.

If you don't agree, well, that's because you suck.

Hotcha! Hank