“Freddie! What’s the matter? Did you hurt yourself? Show me where it hurts.”

“Six… Six… Six months! Whaaaa!”


“Britney is going on vacation for six months. What am I gonna do? Whaaaa!!!”

“Now, now, my little dumpling. There are other shows. We can see Pork Tornado and Red Hot Chili Peppers.”

“But they’re not Britney. Whaaaaa!!!!!”

“Tell you what. East Coast Boogiemen are coming to town. What if I buy you tickets for that show?”

“Does they dance like Britney? Uh? Uh? Do they? Uh?”

“Uh… No. But they put on really good concerts. Look, promise not to cry and I’ll also buy you tickets for D.R.I., Cephalic Carnage and Kreator.”

“But do they wear skimpy costumes? Uh? Do they? Do they swivel their hips and stick out their chests like Britney? Do they show their belly buttons? Do they? Do they? Huh?”

“You know, Freddie, I think it’s about time we had a little talk.”


“There’s more to live music than scantily-clad singers showing off their bodies while they gyrate on stage belting out their hits.”

“Th…Th… There is?”

“I’m telling you that women performers don’t need to show off what God and Dow Corning gave them in order to put on a good show. Artists like Bonnie Raitt and Kristin Hersh rely on their talent, musical skills and great songwriting abilities. You don’t need to see an almost nude 20-year-old woman prancing all over the stage in order to have a good time.”

“I… I… I don’t?”

“No, of course not. You may not understand this now, but when you grow older you’ll learn to appreciate female artists for what they are. I remember when I was growing up. I didn’t think anyone would like me unless I dressed and acted like Cher.”

“What happened?”

“My mommy sat me down and had a little talk with me. Just like we’re doing today. She told me that people would respect me for what I am, and that I didn’t have to rely on showing off my body to get people to like me. And you know something, little guy? She was right.”

“She was?”

“Uh, uh. And now I’m married to a great guy and I have a family and everything, and I never had to dress like some refugee from a harem. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“I… I… I guess so.”

“Good. How about if I take you down to Ticketmaster after dinner tonight and buy you tickets for Maxine Nightingale and All That Remains? You’ll see some great shows. And before you know it, six months will have gone by and Britney will be back.”



“Well… sniff… sniff… Okay.”

“Good, now you better hurry up and get dressed or you’ll be late for work.”