Parody Paradigm

Dear Weird Al,

Last night, I took Leah to see your show at the Apollo Theater for her birthday, and she loved all of it.*

Leah at the Apollo

We highly approved of Emo Phillips as your opening act, and appreciated him opening up to us about his personal life. I never knew he was married and divorced. He mentioned that her name will forever remain nameless, but only if he can manage to be unseen at her gravestone with a sandblaster. Also, I didn’t know of his interest in playing chess with old men in the park, and how difficult it is finding 32 of them at once.

And then you took Apollo’s iconic stage…

Apollo Theater

with your long-time back-up band, and you guys were as tight as a vise grip. Whether it was your impressions of Bob Dylan in Bob, James Taylor in Even Worse, the Police in Velvet Elvis, or Gordon Lightfoot in The Biggest Ball of Twine in Minnesota, and many more…

set list

the crowd was enthusiastic, and all the applause was well-deserved.

Your stripped-down version of you, known as The Ridiculously Self-Indulgent, Ill-Advised Vanity Tour, neglected the familiar fat suit from Eat It, and you never donned a Reynolds Wrap hat from Foil, or a Jedi robe from The Saga Begins. Instead, you featured composed musicians seated on stools,

the band

playing original music from your library of clever parodies that we fondly remember from the 80’s and 90’s, and we loved all 100 minutes of it… although, we would have benefitted from cue cards on your rendition of Bob, for no other reason than to appreciate your insanity just a bit more:

Your twisted vision is a true testament to a society gone crazy on Crazy Glue, and koo-koo for Coco Puffs.

red Al

Your self-mocking and lampooning lyrics are delicately designed around intricate word puzzles that tell stories of ridiculous proportions, but still manage to make us smirk at ourselves with unwitting social commentaries about pop culture, religion and other uncharacteristic conventions of modern living.

Your wink-and-nod parodies–the product of a love affair mashup of music genres and sub-cultures–are at their best when you rip off the bandaid of political correctness and hypocrisy, and generously sing about the neurosis of our society.

With all sincerity, Weird Al, you are the court jester of a generation, and for that, I thank you.

Respectfully, Neal

P.S. I have dedicated a parody of my own to you–an homage of sorts, as a tribute to your talent and imagination that is rooted in a James Bond classic, The Spy Who Loved Me:

Nobody does it better
Makes me feel sad for the rest
Nobody does it half as good as you
Weird Al, you’re the best.

[It’s more fun if you play the audio and sing along]


Nobody doesn’t like butter.
Dairy is simply the best.
Starting out warm, straight from the bovine’s udder,

Baby, it’s a breast.


Whenever we’re beaching,

I can’t help from reaching
the strings to your bathing suit top.
I want to unbind them,
and simply remind them
of what it’s like to be there when they flop.

And nobody doesn’t like boobies,

cuz titties are always the best.
Your buttocks and legs, they only take second place.
Baby, it’s your breasts.

Whenever you’re nursing,

and people are cursing,
“You shouldn’t be flashing your breasts!”
They can’t stop their gawking,
while all the time talking–
Claiming it’s too lewd and lascivious.

Nobody doesn’t like butter

Soy milk just won’t pass the test
As for me, it’s always been half and half
Baby, baby, darlin’, it’s your breasts.

Baby it’s the breasts

Darlin’, it’s your breasts
Baby, like them best

Uh, uh, uh,

Oh, oh, oh,
uh, uh, uh, eyuh, eyuh
Uh, uh, uh,
Oh, oh, oh,
uh, uh, uh, eyuh, eyuh

*Special thanks to my son, Noah who arranged the “extra” of our extra special evening.

June 15, 2018 UPDATE

“Weird Al” just completed his 77th and last date of his Ridiculously Self-Indulgent, Ill-Advised Vanity Tour, and has released a compendium of snippets from all the cover songs his band performed as the encore of each concert.

Oh, the power of their versatility!

 

 

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