Tuesday, September 12, 2006

Timberlake, Two Times

A confession:

As a grown woman who fills her days with intellectual professional pursuits, adrenalizing avocations, and the company of entertaining and caring friends, I've never had much time for celebrity crushes (at least since sixth grade, when I took pity on and pledged my allegiance to Danny Wood, the member of New Kids on the Block most resembling a chimpanzee). To be frank, they kind of disgust me. Don't people have more important things to fantasize about other than how someday someone far richer, more attractive, and probably way more self-involved than they are will want to run away with them to Biarritz? Do we need this much escapism? Quit reading People and go write a letter to your grandmother or something. Make yourself useful.

So I was surprised and embarassed at myself a few weeks ago when at the gym, putting in something like my 57th minute on the treadmill, to catch Justin Timberlake's "Sexy Back" video. What happened to that curlyheaded, side-kicking dancer in boyband baggypants from the NSYNC days? Here was a closely-shorn hottie ripping a single, prim strand of pearls off someone's neck before forcefully, uh, "taking her" on a hotel bed. HOTTTTTTTT.

A few days later I was climbing with my friend Kristen, who owns her own PR company and reps a lot of REALLY BIG NAMES in music and film. She knows the music business inside and out and I told her I had a confession to make.

"Um. I saw this video the other day? Sexy Back? Um. I thought it was totally hot. I went home and downloaded both of Justin Timberlake's albums. I'm so ashamed."

"Nooooo...that's going to be THE song! It is hot. You're not alone," she assured me.

I felt a little better, but I knew the situation was out of control when today, back on the treadmill, MTV aired a special called "Justin: The Moments." All Timberlake clips from 1998 on, including videos and interviews. Woo-hoo! And THEN, VH1 (on the next screen) played Sexy Back AND "Rock Your Body." My BPMs were noticeably rising. I needed to get a grip before I found myself following him on tour in a Winnebago van or something.

LUCKILY, the clips of Justin in between each segment proved to be so charm-less and uninteresting that it went a long way to quenching my Timberlake tremblings. Charm is, for better or worse -- usually worse -- something I inevitably fall for (and who doesn't?). And he had zip.

My advice to you, Justin, is to spend less time working on your weak beatbox and spend more time working on the charm. Or your tour will have to do without me and my Winnebago.


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