I always had a thing for Billy Joel. No, really. This isn't one of my Coke and Twix-induced hysterias. Put down the phone, Rory, don't touch that dial. Remember, I was in a teen of the 80's. We're talkin back in the day, my day where big hair and gold lame' made you the coolest chick on the block. Now that I write that on paper it scares me a little, so back to the subject. Ok, so maybe I didn't have an actual *thing* for Billy Joel, but there was something about his music. Something that appealed to me.
Ok, so I know what you're thinking. Lorelei, you just wanted to be Christie Brinkley. A-ha, I say, you're absolutely right. But it was more than that. More than wanting that perfect "I've been plastered by hair spray one-hundred times and still retain my eyesight" smile.
I guess I kind of thought Billy understood me. Yeah, yeah, I know you're sitting there, reading this and asking yourself how much hairspray was this crazy woman actually exposed to herself? But did you grow up in a house with Emily Gilmore? I think not. Thank you, thank you; I rest my very strong, inpenitrible case.
It's just, you gotta listen to the guy's songs. I mean Uptown Girl. Come on, people, was he really talking about Christie Brinkley? Sure, that's what the magazines said. That's what everyone said, and hell, even the man himself said it. But I knew his deep, dark secret...that song was written just for me. I mean listen to the words..."Uptown girl, She's been living in her uptown world, I bet she never had a back street guy, I bet her mama never told her why..." Ha, you got that right Billy. Sing it again, baby. My mama never told me why, but then again, I never seemed to let that stop me. And then there's, "She's been living in her white bread world, As long as anyone with hot blood can, And now she's looking for a downtown man."
See what I mean? My middle name could be hot blood. I can see it now. Emily and Richard (yes, her name is first to make a pointed statement, go me) Gilmore are proud to announce the marriage of their highly unsuitable daughter, Lorelai "hot blood" Gilmore to...oh wait, that's right, she forgot that whole marriage bit and had a baby first anyway.
Alright, maybe I did have some twix, so ignore the ramblings of a chocolated-up woman. Back to Billy. Next we have the schoolgirl classic (and Rory you know I think you're cooler than Virginia), "Only the Good Die Young." So, there I was, typical good girl schoolgirl....ok, ha ha, I can't go any further with that one. I cannot tell a lie, oh yeah, unless it's to my mother. Anyway, without further adieu... "They say there's a heaven for those who will wait, Some say it's better but I say it ain't, I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints, Sinners are much more fun, And only the good die young."
Ok, so not that I really believe that last part literally--cause Rory will die young over my dead, dressed-in-Sag Harbor-and-SAS body. But I grooved to this song a few, oh, say thousand times when I was locked away in that room before I discovered the uses of that handy tree outside my window. And not to say my mother is a saint, either...but she sure did have that martyr thing down, and boy did her garden parties and watercress sandwiches *not* look fun.
But Christopher and his motorcyle sure did. What can I say--only the good die young, baby.
So there ya go...Billy Joel and why I love him in one quick and easy lesson. Not that you're through with the book learnin...you better go out and buy some of his cd's now, cause you'd like him. Unless of course you're my mother or have no musical taste at all. For now Rory and I have a previous engagement, so you'll have to excuse us...Friday night at Statesville, you know how it is. Gotta go put on my orange jumpsuit and handcuffs and be Uptown Girl once again.
Oh, and Billy...thanks for the memories. And the urge to wear enough iridescent blue eyeshadow to scare even RuPaul in my attempt to look like your wife.
Love and Caffeine, Lorelai