Madonna's Top Five Videos According to Billboard

"Whenever Madonna performs on TV it is an event," says Billboard in this week's issue.

You might believe that if you've seen this ad. The accompanying music sounds more appropriate for a new The Omen movie than for Madonna at Superbowl, as if it will be positively apocalyptic, as it might very well be.



"Thus, on the eve of her Super Bowl halftime show (Feb. 5), we're counting down her top five best TV performances ever. Determined by Billboard.com's foremost Madonna experts, this ranking presents some obvious choices, along with at least one surprise selection," Billboard gushes. (And who are these "foremost Madonna experts," exactly?)

One thing you'll note amongst the Top 5 is the diva's notorious borrowing of the Marilyn image. Despite the fact that she smugly demeaned Lady Gaga, recently, for being derivative, disco historian and author of the books Disco: The Music, the Times, The Era as well as the definitive Gaga, Johnny Morgan, commented thusly on this blog:

"Sorry, but is Madonna hoping to persuade anyone that she ever produced anything original? Channeling Marilyn through the largely unsung work of NY DJs and talented producers seems far more lame to me than Gaga's current inspired and eclectic mash-up of genre, decades and dance grooves."

"Express Yourself" was, in fact, stolen by Madonna from the Staple Singers' song, "Respect Yourself," both melodically and thematically.

See what you think as you watch the following five videos Billboard claims are Madonna's "top five best TV performances ever."

#5. "Vogue," MTV Video Music Awards (1990):


#4. "Hung Up," The 48th Annual Grammy Awards (2006):


#3. "Like a Virgin," MTV Video Music Awards (1984):

(Madonna's nervousness is apparent in her voice in this novice Awards performance.)

#2. "Sooner or Later," The 63rd Academy Awards (1991)
From the film, Dick Tracy:


#1. "Express Yourself," MTV Video Music Awards (1989):


Madonna will do her new single and intended club hit, "Give Me All Your Luvin'" at Superbowl. Expect cheerleaders and hunky male dancers galore for this number. Her latest album, MDNA, is released March 26 in the States.

Winners Announcement: Divas and Blog Readers!

With an exciting last-minute vote, my poll has a tie for favorite all-time diva. With a total of 29 votes, Cher and Lady Gaga each were given 7 votes. (No news yet on the release date of their dance-floor duet, as we await with bated breath.) Betty White is #2 with 6 votes (not bad for someone with one dance hit to her name). Go, Betty! Rihanna had 4 votes; Katy Perry had 3 and Kylie finishes off with two.

Meanwhile, my cd-promo, "Love, Love & Love", goes absolutely free as promotional giveaways to competition winners: John and Andy, each in the USA; and Damek in the Czech Republic. Congratulations, guys!

Joan Collins & Stephanie Beecham 2012 UK Snickers Ad

Beautiful camp ad from the other side of the pond with Dynasty divas Joan Collins and Stephanie Beecham promoting Snickers. (Code word here is "nuts"!)



Collins & Beecham in one of the best, most over-the-top free-for-alls, including the signature cat fight, on Dynasty, seen below. Even the music cues us for self-parody:

Kelly Clarkson - Stronger (7th Heaven Club Remix)

So, I advised the diva in a gone-viral post, and I'm forgiving her this time for irresponsibly endorsing Ron Paul. The 7th Heaven remix is my favorite of her catchy new number. (I certainly don't deny her talent.)

Romney & Gingrich, Who's on First

What a comedy team they are! Enjoy what the Tea Party-orchestrated debates have degenerated to.

Kelly Clarkson Bursts onto the Billboard Dance/Club Chart + the Return of Amber and Doris Day!

The dance artist simply known as Amber, a consistent and supportive friend of the LGBT community as well, announced this week that she has returned to the studio to work on a new album. This is big news in dance-music circles, as Amber has inspired us to get up and move it since the '90s, with hits like "This Is Your Night," "Sexual," "Melt with the Sun" and "Above the Clouds."

The recording studio is "[o]bviously one of the places on Earth, where I am happiest...," she recently expressed to friends. So I'm anticipating great things. Amber was a Grammy nominee as the writer of "Love One Another" for Cher's cover version (Amber originally recorded the song) and also wrote "Bless You Child" for Bette Midler, which deserved to have remixers on board for a maxi-single of 12" club mixes. Never happened, though the tune is dancetastic even on the album version.

Amber's last club hit was a cover of "No More Tears (Enough Is Enough)." Zelma Davis, of C&C Music Factory fame, collaborated on the duet.

The forthcoming album is produced by longtime collaborator Wolfram Dettki, whom she's worked with since the beginning of her recording career, Amber explained to me. However, her first two albums were produced by the Berman Brothers. Amber then began to assert control over her career and, when she did Sexual, her third album, Dettki was producer and has been to this day. (Ummm, the Thunderpuss remix of "Sexual" is so awesome, still!)

So, welcome back, Amber! We eagerly await your newest work and hope it will make its way up the Billboard Dance/Club chart to #1. Which is where we're going next... but after the official 1999 video for Amber's song, "Sexual" (album version) which, on Billboard's club chart that year, made it all the way to #1. She's going to do it again, folks, I just know it!



Now, first, some amazing news from Billboard's pop chart before we go on to dance music. Says Billboard:

Beloved actress and singer Doris Day returns to the Billboard 200 after a 47-year absence, as "My Heart" debuts at No. 135.

First released in England, the set began at No. 9 on the Official U.K. Albums Chart in September, marking Day's first top 10 on the list. With the bow, Day, 87, became the senior-most female artist to notch a U.K. top 10 with a collection of newly-released material.

On the Billboard 200, Day appears for the first time since 1964, when "Love Him!" spent eight weeks on the chart, peaking at No. 102.

"Heart" features recordings produced by Day's son, Terry Melcher, before his death in 2004....

I have to admit that Doris Day, as both an actress and singer, has been a lifelong guilty pleasure of mine. Kudos, Doris! Any thoughts of co-starring in anything with Betty White? She's an animal rights activist, too. Could she, maybe, coax you out of retirement with the idea of proceeds going to PETA?

So, now, the dance chart, Top 25 update: Gloria Estefan usurps the #1 spot this week, as the divine Deborah Cox tumbles to ten with the Janice Robinson-penned "If It Wasn't for Love," which is fantastic. Estefan's "Hotel Nacional" is swing-gone-disco, Dr Buzzard-style; so, hey, Puppini Sisters, get some remixes together, girls!

Lady Gaga's "Marry the Night," also a numero uno, beds down at #8 after a strong 7 weeks on the Dance Chart. Florence + the Machine's "Shake It Out" stalls at #4 but could rev up next week. Let's see.

Rosabel's "Let Me Be Myself" hits 11 after snagging #7 last week, but the great Ultra Nate & Michelle Williams' "Waiting on You" rises, after a slow start, to #12 from 17 last week. I hope this one goes to the bitchin' top!

Erika Jayne's "Party People" and Traci Lords' "Last Drag" are clinging in there, currently at 13 and 19, respectively. Plumb's dreamy "Drifting" drifts up to 14 from last week's 20 (good going!) and "Be with You" by Britain's Erasure soars from #22 to 17.

Now, Kelly! Kelly Clarkson, after all that advice I bestowed on you, sweety, in that infamous blog piece... Honey baby child lamb, you got your ass in the #24 nitch with "Stronger" (and I guess you are)! And, last week, you were #40! Bitch: all's I got to say! Except, I do like the song. Really.

Finally, Gravitonas holds on, against the gravitational pull, but at numero 25. And that rounds out the Billboard Dance/Club Chart Top 25 for the week!

Ok, love you all! Kisses, bitches, all over this fucking globe! Thanks for your support! Blog's going through the stratosphere. Thanks to everyone around the planet, and welcome aboard, Iceland!

Year of the Dragon: know it's gonna be hot (I'm a dragon)! Best to everyone, and much universal love!

The Exorcist - Cast Reunion on "Good Morning America"

A pretty good interview with The Exorcist crew. But what's with Joan Lunden's hair?

Has-Been or Never-Was? Presenting Ms Victoria Jackson, Tea Party Comic

OMG! I just read the Village Voice article on Victoria Jackson, the lousiest Saturday Night Live member ever! Pictured at right (of course) with her idol, Michelle ("Know Nothing") Bachman, the talent-free, bird-brained, baby-voiced Miss Vicki -- who was fired from SNL for haranguing cast and crew with her Bible thumping and relentless right-wing point of view -- is now trying to climb the ladder of success as a Tea Party politico. Hilarious or sad? I can't decide. Think Anne Coulter with even less class and a lower i.q. (obviously a Tea Party requisite).

In a December article entitled "Victoria Jackson Continues to Spew Absurdities and Hate," blogger Perez Hilton wrote:

That's it. She has to be messing with us. She just has to be. Nobody could ever keep this up without planning a big "JUST KIDDING" reveal at some point.

Right?

Well, if not, then here Victoria Jackson goes again:

"I just went to a briefing in Washington DC, across the street from the Capitol, at the Longworth building at 8:30 am two days ago and it changed my life. For six hours, I saw pictures and names and dates and facts and Islamic law books and Korans, Surahs for six hours and they proved to me… that the Muslim Brotherhood has infiltrated our highest positions in government and this is serious."

"Michelle [sic] Bachmann and Rick Santorum are the only GOP candidates so far to acknowledge the above facts and warn against the present threat of Islamic Law replacing our Constitution. Very few people in America are informed and educated as I am."

HA! See the punch line there? You know, the one where she claims that only a "few people are as informed and educated" as she is?

Unless she means that there are only a "few people as informed and educated" as her in the sense that she's so ridiculously misinformed and uneducated that there are barely any others in the world that match her low level… because let's be honest: this is ignorant hatred with no foundation in reality.

Gus Garcia-Roberts' Voice article is obviously well-researched and subtly gives us a psychological insight to his subject. Please check it out at villagevoice.com. (Or, pick up The Voice!) It's a truly brilliant piece of journalism. The Tea Party has hemlock in their brew and Jackson is their neo-Nazi, ditzy-but-evil and foolishly opportunistic darling, desperately trying to cling on to a return to the limelight. (She has political aspirations yet!)

Read the Voice article about her family upbringing and feel sorrow for this creature as it would be enough to make anyone bonkers.

Here's her Tea Party ode and, let's face it, despite her odious point-of-view, it just plain sucks!



By the way, I sometimes confuse her with Denny Dillon, who I really do think is funny. So, when I realize who Victoria actually is, I breathe a sigh of relief.

Sandra Bernhard Takes on Sarah Jessica Parker, "Sex in the City," Joan Rivers, Kathy Griffin

Sandra Berhard shoots from the hip. She isn't afraid to tell it like she sees it, that's for sure! But, sometimes, there may be a sense of bitterness in her attacks. Judge for yourself in her appearance today on Howard Stern.



Michael Musto commented: "On Howard Stern's show, mouthy comic Sandra Bernhard admitted that she turned down the role of Miranda on Sex and the City.

Batshit crazy?

No, hold on people, hear out her reasons.

For one thing, she says, the script was absolutely horrible.

Secondly, they were only paying $7,500 a week.

And what's more, 'To play third or fourth fiddle to Sarah Jessica Parker and put up with her shit?'

Nyah-uh.

But Cynthia Nixon decided it would be a good move, famously enough.

I guess she considered it a choice."

Only $30K/mo.? I should have auditioned!

Below, she disses other divas in her painfully honest, no-holds-barred manner.

Beaverhausen Leaves It to Joan

A little something to brighten up your Monday morning. Joan Crawford, pictured at left with co-star, Trog, shares a Pepsi and a smile. However, Miss Crawford is not always so benign for she does not suffer fools gladly. And when she comes across one (like Rick Santorum), she is likely to bitch slap him good and hard.

Dance/Club Play Top 25, Billboard 1/28 Chart

Let's work our way up the chart this week as I comment on the tracks I deem noteworthy. For the full club play top 25, go to Billboard.com.

Always a pleasure to see Erasure represented, and this week their song, "Be with You," nicely skips to #22 from 24th place last week. Gravitonas hangs in there at #23 with "Everybody Dance." By the way, the Swedish electro duo is the latest incarnation of producer/songwriter Alexander Bard of Army Of Lovers ("Crucified") and BWO fame. Gravitonas' vocalist Andreas Ohm is joined by Russian pop star Roma Kenga on this track. Good stuff!

The dreamy "Drifting" by Plumb en-trances as it drifts up from 23 to snag spot #20, while the Ultra Nate-meets-Destiny Child's Michelle Williams number, "Waiting on You" does its disco damnedest as it jumps from last week's 21st spot to #17. Lots of nice remixes to choose from for this one, too.

Traci Lords' "Last Drag" peaked at fourth place. It was at 10 last week, and now finds itself parked at a still-respectable #16. Lady Gaga drops to sixth place with the rousing "Marry the Night" (my favorite track off the "Born This Way" album), having captured the numero uno position last time we took a look. Rising from #9 to #7 is the sticks-in-the-head dance track, "Let Me Be Myself" by Rosabel featuring the divine club diva, Tamara Wallace.

"Shake It Out," Florence + the Machine, shaking it up to #4. Brilliant party song, brilliant band, glad to see it doing so well! Up one spot as well, Gloria Estefan's "Hotel Nacional," swinging Dr Buzzard-style with the #1 spot a real possibility at this point.

But this week's #1 song (and diva) is none other than "If It Wasn't for Love" sung by Miss Deborah Cox. I fell in love with this Janice Robinson-penned number from the start, before it entered Billboard's chart. Hello, Deborah; so nice to have you back where you belong! (You so deserve your spotlight.)

By the way, big thanks and kisses out to Slovenia! (You guys are crazy!) And love all around this world to all my friends, readers and party people. Until next week, keep on dancing!

Sparkle, Mr President, Sparkle!

This was my absolutely favorite moment of last week's Betty White 90th Birthday NBC special. The joke is terrific but Obama bopping his head to "The Golden Girls" theme song is even funnier. Stop, Barack, you're killing me! You've got my vote, you've got my vote! Ah, you're a riot!



But now that you came to New York and sang a little Al Green at The Apollo, well, that's when I said, "I love this guy!" Because we deserve a President who cannot only inspire but occasionally amuse us.

Arpad Miklos, Hot in the "Hood" by Perfume Genius

There's a whole new trend of male porn stars doing music videos. Some do their own singing. Some, like Colton Ford (who began as a singer) do well. Some, like Zeb Atlas, should stick to s&m (that's standing & modeling, children)! Now, there are some men who bring a natural class to gay porn and know when not to try singing. And Arpad Miklos is one of them.

With a sexy gentleman's air, the hung Hungarian lives in New York and works as an escort. (In case anyone wants to know what to buy me for my upcoming birthday, this dude could escort me anywhere!)

I actually got a kiss (on the lips!) from this handsome, hairy, Eastern-European beast one night, not too long ago, when he was dancing on a bar in his jock strap. Of course, I'd put a $5 bill in it. But I distinctly remember having pleasant dreams that night!

Well, now, Arpad is co-starring in a video for the song, "Hood," by Perfume Genius. That's the stage name for solo artist Mike Hadrea from Seattle. "Hood"'s melody is decidedly retro-girl group but sung by a gay man; kind of sensitive; kind of '60s-Carole King-ish. I like it. And the sweetly minimalist, Felliniesque video is a beauty.

Arpad could do my hair and make-up anytime!

The Entertainment Underground

I don't need Mental Illness Awareness Week (more benevolently known as Mental Health Awareness Week) to roll around because I ride the New York City subways. I'm well aware of mental illness -- all year long.

I also don't need to seek out entertainment because, from the upper eastside to Bay Ridge, my R train ride is virtually the poor man's Ed Sullivan Show rebooted for 2012. There's an endless list of mariachi bands who come aboard, unable to contain their "Cielito Lindo" until Cinco de Mayo. There are the breakdancing teens who enter the subway stagedoor with their boom box, somersaulting across the floor. (Look out, strap hangers!) There are the doo-wop groups, the acapella blind man, the opera singers, saxophonists, accordian players. Does reading aloud from the Bible qualify as drama?

In any event, at some point, the artistes pass the hat for you to put a little moolah in it, to show your appreciation. Wait a minute! This isn't Ed Sullivan! It's the subterranean Jerry Lewis Telethon!

Tourists snap pictures and are delighted. Not so much New York City commuters coming home from a long day's work. (The entertainers generally know better than to audition during the morning rush hour. They also know to cut to intermission when the train doors open at the next station, just in case a cop is standing there. They may be putting on a show but performing before a captive audience is still a crime (creating a public nuisance, endangering passengers by blocking the aisles and/or exits, etc.). There ought to be a law against bad voices and guitar picking as well or, at least, there ought to be a gong.

Forget your Kindle or your iPod because you won't need them. You won't be able to read, hear or think above the din once entertainment is enforced upon you. Like the floor show or not, the performers demand your undivided attention.

But -- hey! -- don't forget, gang: "The world is a stage/the stage is a world of entertainment!" Most especially, these days,... in your subway car.

Meryl's Latest Metamorphosis

Nobody does drag like Meryl Streep. Notice the arch similarity of Meryl as Maggie and Milton Berle as Cleopatra.

Ah, Meryl and Berle! Lovely together, no? Meryl, seen here in drag as Prime Minister, and Uncle Miltie all dolled up as a queen: Hollywood royalty!

Fairly fresh from her star turn as Julia Child in Julie & Julia, the mercurial Meryl now transforms herself into Margaret Thatcher for the biopic, The Iron Lady. (Not a spin-off of Iron Man.) And I have to admit: I love this movie!

Ms Streep is one of today's movie stars who consistently astonishes in one role after another. Singing ABBA; playing a bitter, old nun; portraying Julia Child; being Doris Day (It's Complicated), Meryl took the knowing camp turn a great screen actress (a'la Bette Davis or Joan Crawford) does once she reaches a certain age. This probably began with Devil Wears Prada.

Reunited with her Mama Mia director, Phyllidia Lloyd, the two are up to great things. Politics put aside, The Iron Lady is presented as a star-driven women's picture. Meryl's Margaret struggles to get to the top, sacrificing attention to family and denying her feelings in order to get there, all the while wearing increasingly grander frocks in the trademark, tailored Thatcher style, and in the style of the classic women's picture as well.

Framed by showing Thatcher in her dotage, the film uses the conventional biopic flashback technique to show her rise from grocer's daughter to Prime Minister of England, warts and all. It's Thatcher's megalomania and grandiosity, her dogmatic pedanticalness, as much as her failing policies, that bring her to her downfall. Weepy moments and slyly funny ones abound en route.

You can despise Thatcher but completely enjoy The Iron Lady, oddly. Certainly, as an old-Hollywood-styled star vehicle, Ms Streep is in almost every frame and she carries this film magnificently on her shoulders in one of the very best performances of her career.

You might get a glimpse of what I mean from this trailer:

Paula Deen: the Glitz and Glamour of Diabetes Mellitus

"Southern comfort" might best describe the type of food Paula Deen prepares in her cookbooks and on her Food Network shows. High-calorie, high-cholesterol, trans-fatty, starchy, sugary, salty, greasy, buttery.... Yummy! Today, Missy Deen came out of the closet as a diabetic. And are you really surprised?

So, it is tonight that I throw caution to the wind and out myself as a person with type-2 diabetes. I mean, I don't want to cast stones and be a hypocrite, so I have to come clean if stone-throwing's on my agenda tonight. And it is, I assure you! I'm just warming up the rocks.

Now, diabetes mellitus is not a particularly tres-glamoureux disease despite Mary Tyler Moore, honeys, is it? (Did I dare to even mention "honey?" Scatch that!) I mean, it's not like tuberculosis, throughout the 19th century, with a patina of Romanticism all around it! It's not Greta Garbo in Camille! It's not Bette Davis in Dark Victory! It's Paula Deen chowing down on potatoes au gratin!

At least that's the perception, with the buzz being one must be overweight, sedentary, or an unhealthy eater. Halle Berry has type-2 diabetes, for heaven's sake! Wrap your brains around that! There can be a glitz and glamour to this disease, after all! All we need to do is re-educate the public.

More and more people in the USA are classified with adult onset (type 2) diabetes these days because, for one thing, the American Medical Association keeps lowering the bar on what qualifies one as diabetic. A fasting blood sugar of 126 or higher is enough to brand you with the scarlet letter ("D") and, quoth the raven ever more, you'll live that shame to the grave (not necessarily dying of complications from diabetes). You can never "recover" from diabetes or become non-diabetic. You are branded and must be monitored. For life.

I mean, I do take my condition seriously. I wouldn't want to be with someone, feet in the air, and have a toe drop off!

Ok, quite frankly, I'm not surprised Delta Burke, David "Boomer" Wells and Sherri Shepherd have the Big D; but Dick Clark and Billie Jean King too?

Patti Labelle collected her recipes and put out some cookbooks. She found out she was a diabetic! (Better cut out that marmalade, lady!) She's since written cookbooks regarding healthier eating. I've looked them over. Puh-leeze, Ms Patti! My doctor would strangle me if I made half the things you suggest. Peach cobbler?!!?

Sipping a mango margarita, I contemplate how I may have become diabetic. Sure, I could lose some weight, I could exercise more consistently, but I want to examine any drastic options with more scrutiny for now.

Paula Deen, our butterball queen, has probably become more associated with that deliciously fatty condiment/additive, butter, since anyone in the wake of culinary grande dame Julia Child. (The three secrets to french cooking, my sweets? Butter, butter and more butter!)

You just know Paula's not the only host on Food Network with diabetes. Who will come out of the insulin closet next? Guy Fieri, of Diners, Drive-ins and Dives, seems like a perfect candidate, for one.

Deen has known she is diabetic since 2009. Speaking on the Today show, the 64-year-old kitchen queen said,"I'm here today to let the world know that it is not a death sentence," (big news!) and then happened to add that she will be a paid spokesperson for drug company, Novo Nordisk. Interesting timing and spin cycle.

Why, I should be their spokesperson! I'd love to share my deep, personal philosophy with diabetics: "Eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow you may die!" (Am I quoting Pope Benedict, does anybody know?)

Deen said she will talk about her life with diabetes and recipes that fit her lifestyle for her company's "Diabetes in a New Light" program. "I've always encouraged moderation," she told Today. (That's news to me, sweetiepie!)

In the meantime, enjoy Paula Dean's butter-flavored lip balm from the store on her web site. Other flavors include peach cobbler, pecan pie, pumpkin pie, key lime pie and banana pudding. Sweet dreams, y'all!

Competition: Win My New Promo-only/Not-for-Sale cd-r

Win my latest, exclusive dj-promo-only cd-r in time for Valentine's Day! It's titled "Love, Love & Love" quoting Anita Ekberg in La Dolce Vita. You can play it on your cd player, computer or download it to your iPod. This item is absolutely not for sale, used exclusively as a dj/club promo, but you can win one here with free shipping anywhere on this planet. Please support the artists you enjoy by downloading their full tracks legally.

No question for you to answer this time! First three responders win! You must include your name and a mailing or post box address in your e-mail to receive the prize. All e-mail info, except your first name & country, will be kept confidential and not announced, used solely to mail your cd. One cd per e-mail. Contact me at: djbuddybeaverhausen@hotmail.com to win.

The game begins as of NOW & all e-mails must be received by Monday, Januuary 30 by 5 pm Eastern Standard Time to be considered. Of course, first three e-mails received are winners.

Tracks include songs by Jennifer Holliday, Ultra Nate & Michelle Williams, Lady Gaga v the Pet Shop Boys, Tina Charles, Gloria Estefan, Plumb, Florence & the Machine, & more!

Good luck all!

Disco Gossip and Billboard Dance/Club Chart

I don't know what color Madonna's fingernails were painted, but I'm guessing Jungle Red.

"Lady Gaga has been up front about her admiration for Madonna. But does Madonna share the love?" demanded Reuters after Madonna's scratch-her-eyes-out diss on ABC-tv.

Cynthia McFadden can be a big yawn as an interviewer and, last night, she proved it yet again on Nightline with Her Madgesty as guest. However, the juicy part of that interview appears tonight on 20/20.

“I thought this is a wonderful way to redo my song,” Madonna slyly says of Lady Gaga’s “Born This Way.”

“I mean, I recognized the chord changes." LOL! "I thought it was… interesting.”

Uh-oh! And she's just warmin' up, folks! “I certainly think she references me a lot in her work. And sometimes I think it’s amusing and flattering and well done,” Madonna adds. (Note strategic use of the word "sometimes.") “When I heard it on the radio,... I said that sounds very familiar."

When McFadden asks if that's annoying, Madonna responds, “It felt reductive.” McFadden asks what Madonna means by using that word. "Look it up," the diva says as she sips her tea with a hilarious set of bitchy expressions passing over her face.

Oh my God! It's so catty, you gotta love it!

But let's move on (no matter how hard it may be) to a quick, totally subjective and absolutely biased run-down of this week's Billboard Dance/Club Top 25. Therein, Lady Gaga lays claim to the #1 spot with "Marry the Night." Deborah Cox floats beautifully to the third-place niche with the Janice Robinson-written "If It Wasn't for Love." Gloria Estefan's fabulous, Dr Buzzard-like "Hotel Nacional" up at #4, Florence & the Machine now at #5 with "Shake It Out." "Let Me Be Myself" up to #9 from 12th place last week, while Traci Lords' new one bottoms out the top ten.

Erika Jayne's "Party People" drops precipitously from 1 to 11, while Gravitonis feels the pull of gravity. "Everybody Dance" rose to the 18th spot last week, now slips to the 20th. Too gay? Too European? Or simply not enough payola?

Ultra Nate and Michelle Williams nudge up yet one more nook to #21 with the great "Waiting on You" while Plumb and Erasure each break into the top 25 with "Drifting" and "Be with You," respectively.

"Give," by LeAnn Rimes, narrowly missed out on the top ten, as it rose as high as #11, but has given in to 25th place this week, finishing my rundown. For a full chart listing of the top 25 dance tunes, visit Billboard online this week.

Love all around the world to all you guys! Keep your eyes and ears open on the Madonna/Gaga fallout cuz it ain't over, dont'cha just know it! Peace on Earth, except amongst fierce divas who keep it interesting!

Pray for Destiny's Child!

On Facebook, Joan Rivers notes: "Beyonce said that she delivered her baby naturally, which for her meant no wind machine or backup dancers."

The diva's pregnancy delayed shooting on her next film which, ironically, is the Clint Eastwood musical remake, A Star Is Born. The Golden Globe nominee was cast, due to begin filming next month. But Eastwood agreed to delay shooting until Ms Jay-Z is back to full strength. And now, apparently, a star is born, silver spoon firmly in mouth.

"As you know, megastars Jay-Z and Beyoncé spent $1.3 million to turn six rooms at Lenox Hill Hospital into two luxury suites so Beyoncé could pop out her baby in some real style," Michael Musto confided in his Village Voice column, La Dolce Musto. "If you've got money and want to spend it, be my guest. Just don't act like your wealth makes you above the law, or beyond humanity and good sense.

"The Z's ran into trouble when a Brooklyn man claimed the couple's guards prevented other people from getting to wards, waiting rooms, and even hallways in the hospital.

"If Beyoncé's having a baby, I guess no one else can! (Or if they do, you can't visit them.)

"Has celebrity entitlement gotten more annoyingly entitled than ever?"

The New York Daily News reported: "The freshly renovated 'executive' maternity digs look more like a Four Seasons spread than the drab hospital accommodations afforded most mere mortals.... Little Blue Ivy Carter came into the world with her choice of four flat-screen TVs, lushly upholstered gray and cream sofas, silken throw pillows, modern brushed-chrome accents, mahogany walls and a posh kitchenette with a gleaming tile backsplash."

How did Lenox Hill respond to that? Says the Daily News, "Lenox Hill Hospital has denied claims it constructed the five-star accommodations at Beyonce's behest, saying instead the superstar singer was simply lucky enough to be the first patient to get them." Oh, please, honeys, the next time I come down with deadly pneumonia and have to be quarantined, I'm having Dr Frank Spinelli admit me to Lenox Hill and try to get that fucking room for me, I tell you!

Now, yesterday, New York State health officials dismissed patients' complaints. Why am I not surprised to hear that? Occupy that hospital!

At the top of this post is the picture of the $13,000 plexiglas crib for baby Blue Ivy Z. (I think it's hideous, frankly.)

"The superstar couple's new child has reportedly had at least £1million spent on her in gifts and a fantasy land nursery.

"Among the treasure trove awaiting [Ivy Blue] is a solid-gold, hand-made rocking horse said to be worth £390,000... while her high chair [seen below] is worth close to £10,000 and dripping in Swarovski crystals," reports the UK's Metro.

But ya are in the highchair, Ivy, ya are! (Can't wait to see what ever happens to Baby Ivy as she grows up!)

Meanwhile, while on the topic of demon spawn, Perez Hilton blogged, "Looks like Roman Polanski‘s classic [Rosemary's Baby] was supposed to have a bit more star power! Rutanya Alda, best known for Mommie Dearest, was Mia Farrow‘s stand-in for the flick." (Alda played Carol Ann, Joan Crawford's assistant, in the movie.) Below, Van Johnson, Mia Farrow, Joan Crawford, Roman Polanski and William Castle.

Says Michael Musto who broke the story: "Rutanya Alda -- best known as Carol Ann in Mommie Dearest -- just told me a remarkable story. Rutanya was Mia Farrow's stand-in for the 1968 suspense classic Rosemary's Baby.

"When Mia was late to shoot a bit where she and a girlfriend go to see the Off-Broadway musical The Fantasticks, director Roman Polanski decided to start shooting with Rutanya standing in.

"Part of the scene had screen icons Joan Crawford and Van Johnson (as themselves) being spotted by Rosemary in the lobby...."

William Castle, who directed Joan in the camp classics, Straight-Jacket and I Saw What You Did (and I Know Who You Are), probably insisted on this, I'm guessing, as he was Polanski's producer and never passed by a tacky gimmick.

Musto goes on: "Remembers Rutanya: 'Joan came over to me and said, "Hello! I'm Joan Crawford!" She thought I was Mia Farrow!'

"Or maybe she just knew she'd just spotted the future Carol Ann," Michael adds in a hilarious aside.

"Another wacky mishap happened when Van Johnson first spotted Polanski, particularly his striking schnoz.

"'Who's that, Pinocchio?' quipped Johnson, completely clueless. This sent the excitable Polanski into a tizzy of horror. 'Get off my set, everybody!' he shrieked, clearing all the stars and non-stars away. Joan obliged, but not before grandly intoning, 'You should learn to have the manners of a William Castle.'"

William Castle responds: "Not sure that is how I remember it all going down...but it's Hollywood where everything and anything is possible!"

Reader comments from The Village Voice blog included "Too bad Joan was cut. When Rosemary's baby gurgled 'mommie,' Joan could have snapped 'Mommie WHAT?'"

"The real life Joan Crawford meeting the later Carol Ann is spooky. Like when Charles Manson encountered Sharon Tate months before the killings."

And "I'm sure I spotted Joan Crawford in the coven of witches when Mia Farrow gets raped."

"Name your favorite color, plant and ex-President," Ruth Buzzi Tweeted. "Those were instructions in a maternity ward last week where BLUE IVY CARTER was hatched."

OK, babies, that's it for now! Mommie needs her beauty sleep!

Below, Joan, obviously acting under the influence (but quite bejeweled, nonetheless), in William Castle's I Saw What You Did.

Your Entertainment in Tandem

Just some odds and ends from previous posts.

From my last "On My Turntables" post, the Youtube audio-only link to Jennifer Holliday's Tony Moran-produced, Wayne G/Andy Allder remix of "Magic". Get dancin'!



From "Where the Boys Were," the conclusion of the un-aired, way-gay Bette Davis sitcom pilot rewritten by Mart ("The Boys in the Band") Crowley, in parts 2 and 3 below.





Lastly, Ms Natalie Wood, who figured in both posts, "Where the Boys Were" and "Don't Go Near the Water," is represented with her fab dramatic scene at the end of West Side Story, but I could only get this on YouTube with Polish subtitles. Natalie would probably want it that way.



In any language, no matter how many times I watch this, I always cry.

Don't Go Near the Water

Like old flotsam and jetsam, sick jokes from the aftermath of Natalie Wood's 1981 drowning are resurfacing: "Why didn't Natalie Wood take a shower on the boat? Because she was going to wash up ashore." "What kind of wood doesn't float? Natalie." "What was the last thing Natalie Wood's mother said to her before she died? 'Natalie, honey, it's OK to have a few cocktails, but don't go overboard!'"

With that cold case now reheated, more than 30 years later, here come those jokes, in our faces like a gush of stagnant, salty water. Spinning out of the murky vortex off Catalina Island, here's Natalie Wood's drowning: the remix!

Dennis Davern, cap'n of the yacht, "Splendour," owned by Ms Wood and husband Robert Wagner, finally decided to make a few bucks by writing a tell-all account about the incident in 2009. It was entitled, "Goodbye Natalie, Goodbye Splendour," co-written with one Marti Rulli. Thanks for the blah-blah-blah, Cap, but looks like you may be in deep seawater yourself. In the book, the Cap'n said he believes Wood's death was a direct result of a fight with Wagner. In 2010, His Nibs said he believes the investigation of Wood's death was incompetent and suggested there was a cover-up. He added that he "regrets" misleading investigators by keeping quiet... at Robert Wagner's request.

Well, shiver me timbers! When asked if our fearless Cap'n could face charges for possibly lying to authorities during the 1981 investigation, the police lieutenant in charge of the re-opened investigation had this to say: "We'll probably end up talking to the captain sooner or later, and we'll assess what he has to say then and now."

All right, Caps, get yourself a lawyer. Now! 'Cause there's a storm brewin' on the horizon, I gotta tell you, lookin' out my crow's nest.

As a life-long non-swimmer (only one of many skills I've failed to master due to extreme but unexplainable lack of interest), I shudder with horror at the thought of death by drowning. Natalie Wood said, once, in a tv interview, that her greatest fear was of dark seawater. I can empathize, and shudder at the thought of that ever happening to me. Still, I took two separate swimming classes at the Y and flunked both!

Three-time Oscar nominee, Natalie, may have sung "I Feel Pretty" in the film version of West Side Story (ok, actually, she lip-synched to it if you wanna get technical) but, when her body was found floating in the water about a mile away from the yacht, she was wearing a long nightgown, socks and a down jacket.

Less-talented sibling, Lana Wood, took offense. "My sister... would never go to another boat or to shore dressed in a nightgown and socks!"

So many fashion faux pas when we die suddenly! Maria Montez was, no doubt, feeling pretty, too, when she drowned. In her own bathroom, yet! Maria could swim; I remember, from watching Cobra Woman, but that doesn't help in your bathtub. Foul play was expected, though the official cause of death was listed as "heart attack." Well, I mean, yeah; you drown, your heart stops, right?

So, don't go near the water! Look what happened to Isadora Duncan, just driving by it (at least in the movie version starring Vanessa Redgrave)! Isadora was no doubt feeling pretty when she grandly tossed that long, flowing scarf about her neck ... only to choke when it got caught in the open-spoked tire and rear axle of the automobile in which the dancing diva was but a blithe and carefree passenger. Don't you hate it when attempts at egomaniacal fabulousness go wrong!

Natalie may have found Splendor in the Grass but she should have stuck with terra firma, because the more firmer, the less terror! Never mind Splendour on the choppy water!

"It would be very satisfying to pin down an exact cause to Natalie Wood's death (and possibly who else was involved), but it doesn't seem like we'll be getting that luxury. Not yet, anyway," said E! On-line News last night with pronounced disappointment. "The Los Angeles Sheriff's Department confirmed to E! News that there has not been any evidence of foul play in the iconic Hollywood star's case and it is still being ruled as an accidental drowning. However, they also stress that the case 'is still being investigated and is still active.'"

Cap'n, I said get yourself a lawyer. Now!

Where The Boys Were

Making the Boys: The Story Behind The Boys in the Band is a documentary that is so much more than its title suggests.

I bought the dvd on a recent trip to the gay "general store," Rainbows and Triangles, in Chelsea (8th Ave. between 18th/19th Streets, NYC) and it blew my mind! It starts in the Swingin' '60s, when being gay was not swingin' at all. Still considered a mental illness, police harrassment against open congregations of gay people was not only legal, but routine.

It was the sweltering June night Judy Garland died that brought about The Stonewall Riots. The queens weren't suffering it again that night, honeys! Enough was enough was enough was enough! And so Gay Pride Day was born and, too, the Gay Liberation movement as we now know it.

Making the Boys is nothing short of amazing. Great archival footage of pre-Lib gay life of the 1960's and beyond, accompanied by talking heads the likes of Michael Musto, Paul Rudnick, ex-Mayor Koch, Dominick Dunne, Terrence McNally, Tony Kushner, Robert Wagner, Cheyanne Jackson, film's director William Friedkin and creator/playwrite Mart Crowley.

A fascinating look into the past, through a glass darkly, as well as a study of the genesis of The Boys in the Band, from play to film, the documentary opened my eyes to what a great friend Natalie Wood was to the gay community, and how the Polish-American princess was so essential in getting her dear friend, Crowley's, play off the ground.

Crowley was a Hollywood screenwriter whose credits included a serious re-write of the pilot for Bette Davis' proposed, Aaron Spelling-produced sitcom, The Designer, which was, maybe, a tad too gay and AbFabish before its time. It was not picked up and never aired.

Edward Albee appears (with a static-cling cowlick somebody should have attended to) to say that yes, The Boys in the Band owes a structural debt to his Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? , but he doesn't mind and thinks that's hunky-dory, praising Crowley.

Laurence Luckinbill (Lucie Arnaz's long-time hubby) and Peter White are the two still-living members of the original cast to comment herein on the play and film, sadly. Many members have passed from AIDS. Straight Cliff Gorman, who, oddly, played the biggest queen, Emory, in the original film and play, died from other causes.

Truly ironic, there was an immediately post-Stonewall reaction to The Boys in the Band, when activists felt the characters in the groundbreaking play were gay Stepin Fetchits, and not p.c.

I can't recommend this documentary highly enough. Please, whoever you are, do not take your rights for granted, especially in today's climate. And see this film! (Available at http://www.amazon.com/Making-Boys-Edward-Albee/dp/B00551QQHK/ref=sr_1_1?s=movies-tv&ie=UTF8&qid=1326161845&sr=1-1 Just cut & paste into your browser.)

From 1960, written by Neil Sedaka and voiced by Connie Francis:

Beast of Burden, Bette Midler & Mick Jagger

The best quality image I could find on the internet (it's not great, I warn thee) of Bette Midler's hot 1984 music video -- a big hit on classic MTV -- with Mick Jagger being quite game and charming in this. And Bette looks Dusty Springfieldish and quite petite and sexy. Enjoy, all you Bette fans out there!

My Brooklyn Experience

I have to tell you, although I lived in Park Slope, on St John's off the park, for three years in the early '90s, and now live in Bay Ridge, I know very little about Brooklyn outside of the immediate neighborhoods I've resided in. So, yesterday proved to be a bit of a whirlwind tour when my downstairs friend and neighbor, Kevin, took me out to other neighbs in search of cheap furnishings.

Basically, I need shelves. Because, more basically, I have thousands of cds and tons of books that need to get out of boxes, from my move, and find a home. This means lots of shelving to store them. Luckily, my new floor-through has plenty of room to accommodate the shelves. (My old Village shoebox could handle one set of shelves exactly.)

So, off we went, on the R train, to resurface at the Atlantic/Pacific Streets stop. That has a very bi-coastal ring to it, no? Well, I found myself in what seemed like absolute Third World. Toto, I don't think we're in Bay Ridge anymore! Burqas abounded! And dashikis fluttered in the wind, on merchants' racks, like colorful curtains. You might imagine how multi-culti I was feeling as we made our way toward the store I prefer to refer to as Salvatore Armi!

"I need shelves that are shallow but tall," I told Kevin. "The way you like your men," he quipped, knowingly. Unfortunately, we were informed by the salesperson there that the furniture department was temporarily closed. "Ok," Kevin said, "You don't want second-hand anyhow!" (Now he tells me!) "Let's catch the bus to Ikea. It's on 9th Street. Do you want to walk or take the subway?"

"How long a walk is it?" I inquired, always interested in pinching pennies unless cocktails are involved.

"Oh, about 10 minutes!"

Forty minutes, many beads of sweat, and several dicey streets that I wouldn't wander after sunset later, we arrived at the bus stop in Red Hook. Our sitcom-housemates relationship has gone from Mary and Rhoda to Laverne and Shirley in about a month. Red Hook is described as the new up-and-coming neighborhood in Brooklyn. It reminded me of someplace out of Last Exit to Brooklyn, or even Only the Dead Know Brooklyn. Gee, so many upbeat tomes about the borough, dont'cha know! Wonder why that is?

Eventually, we arrive at Ikea,

which rises at the end of a dreary warehouse area like the fabled Oz. ("You're out of the woods/you're out of the dark/step into the light!") We go inside. It is like the Disneyland of furniture! So many choices, so much cool stuff! So little money! I immediately have my mind set on a set of six drawers because it looks so Scandi-chic! Frosted plexiglas fronts in aqua hues for each drawer. They're shallow and the perfect height for cd storage. Not what I originally had in mind, but this will keep the cds out of sight for company and I can catalog what's inside. Perfect!

Kevin and I wander through the many showrooms, covetously cruising and fingering furniture. Not to mention sitting on couches and chairs to test for comfort (and to get off our feet for a moment). Kevin buys a beautiful red rug for his dining area.

On our way out, we walk through an area of assemble-yourself-for-lower-cost stuff. My shelves are there! We buy them to assemble at my place. (Another Laverne & Shirley misadventure to come?) I pay for delivery. Ikea is so efficiently run, you'd swear it was a German organization, as the check-out people seem attentive, on-the-ball, and we're out of there in no time. I'm told delivery will be between 6-10 pm as we're checking out at 3:30. The delivery guys arrive just before 8 pm. Perfecto!

On our way home from Oz, we discover a free shuttle bus to our R train stop to home. (Next time, we'll know to take it to the store.)

Well, it was an amazing adventure, really, and Ikea is our new monthly Mecca. I thank God for Sweden as it's given us Ikea, ABBA and Liv Ullman. And I'm happy to be back, all nice and coze, in Bay Ridge, adventure over. At least for now.

Beautiful Together: The Billboard Club Chart & Dj Buddy Beaverhausen

Interestingly, this week, I'm in the middle of reading And Party Every Day: The Inside Story of Casablanca Records, a juicy tell-all by Larry Harris, the label's co-founder. In the book's prologue, the author writes of an altercation he had with the Billboard charts department in 1978, essentially involving payola. Is that all in the past now? And how honest or reliable is the Billboard dance chart today? We can only ponder that as we view their latest run-down.

Erika Jayne's "Party People" (and a few good remixers) lift her to numero uno on the latest Billboard dance/club chart, on the up-and-up, I'm sure, as it's very strong club material. Katy Perry drops to #2 with "The One That Got Away," bumping into Lady Gaga, ascendant to 3rd place with "Marry the Night," jumping from the 7th spot. These two divas are on a nexus like Joan Crawford and Bette Davis in their heyday; I actually think of them, sometimes, as Katy Gaga and Lady Perry!

Traci Lords' "Last Drag" has possibly peaked as she stalls at #4. But that's a nice niche to be in. "If It Wasn't For Love," Deborah Cox doing the Janice Robinson-penned number, deservedly keeps moving up up up, from #10 to #7. Gotta have hot Cox on the floor.

"Hotel Nacional" swings its way to #8, via Gloria Estefan, with its Dr Buzzard & the Savannah Band-like sound that really works, and Florence & the Machine round out the top 10 with the excellent "Shake It Out."

Tamara Wallace still flying higher with Rosabel on "Let Me Be Myself," glorious club stuff that's leaped to the 12th position from last week's #17. Nice to see Sweden's Gravitonas at #18, up from #21 with the great "Everybody Dance." (And everybody will when they hear this tune in the clubs.)

Lastly, as we get to the bottom of the top 25, the duet between Ultra Nate and Michelle Williams (of Destiny's Child) nudges up one spot. Disappoints the hell out of me cuz it's powerhouse, amazing vocalizing and production. Not enough payola here, or what's the damned problem? And LeAnn Rimes sinks drastically to #23 from last week's #14, after peaking at #11; just short of making her way into the top ten.

All right, all you groovy blog readers, keep dancin' the world round! Peace, love & out (for now)! ~~ Buddy B

More Bette at The Baths

Hilarious patter by The Divine Miss M from one of her early 1970s Continental Baths gigs. Crude capture but the only existing one; a rarity. I'm sure you'll all appreciate this. Barry Manilow on piano (unseen).

J'Accuse Lady Gaga!

Oh, Lord, here we go again! Another plagiarism accusation made against Lady Gaga, this time involving Barney's Christmas display, for heaven's sake!

"Apparently, Bill O’Reilly wasn’t the only one displeased with Lady Gaga’s holiday display at Barneys," notes New York magazine (as if anyone gives a shit what he says). "In a video that has recently surfaced online, the multimedia artist Colette Maison Lumiere suggests Gaga should have given her attribution for the windows’ creative direction. Colette has been prolific in New York since the seventies, creating installations, fashion collaborations, and live exhibitions in studios, stores, and nightclubs — some of which, the video insinuates, reappear in Gaga's windows."

Let's go to the video, shall we?



Now, the artist who calls herself, simply, Colette, looks to me like she's off her nut. Kind of the Baby Jane Hudson of the New York art world, I'd say. Her dismissive attitude and out-of-touch grandiosity, when two young women attempt to talk with her, clearly illustrates Colette is not a well woman, as she hands them her business card with a contemptuous grimace. "I'm gonna do my thing and you do yours! Try not to attract attention," Colette instructs the person filming her. She then proceeds to deface the sidewalk outside Barney's windows by painting a personalized protest message on it in full view of passersby on a busy Manhattan street.

Intermixed shots of Colette's window dressings from her salad days against the Barney holiday display actually point out the vast lack of similarity of the works in question. Colette even tries to make a case that the clunky platforms she is wearing on the street inspired the stilettos seen on Gaga's display mannequin! "Edge of Glory" plays over this, on the video, ironically. Colette may be on the edge, but it ain't glory that awaits her, I'm afraid.

Judge Beaverhausen, with the bang of his gavel, respectfully tosses this out of court and fines Colette for uninspiring graffiti and overall bogusness.

The Mother of Disco

"Ma-mako, ma-ma-sa, mamako-kossa." Thus spake Manu Dibango on the famous refrain of "Soul Makossa," a song many have chronicled as the dawn of disco music. The 1972 single by Cameroonian saxophonist Dibango became an international sensation with an exotic, make-you-wanna-dance sound perhaps unlike anything popularly heard before in the West. Released by Atlantic records, the song was put into heavy rotation by radio dj Frankie Crocker at New York's WBLS, and soon hit the au-go-go clubs around the world, filling floors.

"Soul Makossa" peaked at #35 on the Billboard pop chart and went to #21 on the magazine's R&B chart. (There was no Dance/Club chart at that time.) At a then-unheard-of 4:30 minutes, in the days before the extended mix was created by Tom Moulton, the 45 rpm was perfect for djs and dance floors (to prepare the next record for the evening's mix and to surrender to the music, respectively).

The refrain was also featured prominently, ten years later, in Michael Jackson's "Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'."

"Soul Makossa" may be the proto-disco song because it set off a movement towards music geared specifically for a club crowd; '70s disco evolved from it. However, I would like to lay claim that the disco sound may have originated not in 1977, but in 1967, with another Afrikan artist: Miss Miriam Makeba.

Perhaps it is a little bit bold of me, but I believe the disco sound, diva and all, is rooted in Makeba's "Pata Pata." The song was written by Dorothy Masuka (also South African), and first released by Makeba in 1957 when she still lived in Africa. The song was then released in the United States and Europe in 1967 for her studio album of the same name, complete with added English words. It was very successful on the Billboard Hot 100 at that time, peaking at #12. This is an early moment when the "girl-group" sound started evolving in a specifically dance-floor direction.

"Pata Pata" is considered by many to be Makeba's signature hit and the song's title means "Touch Touch" in English, by the way. I would add that there are two reasons why Manu Dibango is credited as the forefather of disco and Miriam Makeba is not: first, Dibango immediately sparked a musical genre in the early '70s. Secondly, sexism is an issue very much at play here, in my humble opinion.

Still, give a thought to occasionally putting "Pata Pata" in your mix early in the night as a warm-up; I think it works well. Give it a listen, just below. Maybe your crowd will want to touch touch, eh? In any event, let's all give thanks to Africa for the prototypical dance floor sound.

By the way, German house music producers, Milk & Sugar, did a remix of the song, named "Hi-A Ma (Pata Pata)" but I wasn't crazy about their approach, finding it repetitious and dumbed down. A great remix still deserves to be made with strengthened percussion and fuller sound.

For now, I leave you with "Mama Afrika" (Miriam's official nickname) and The Mother of Disco's original.

Madonna Kennedy

"I think we should dress Madonna up as my mother. Wouldn’t that be a riot?” said JFK Jr. This according to the memoir, due January 24, Fairy Tale, written by RoseMarie Terenzio, JFK Jr.'s assistant back in 1999. Such was John-John's stunningly bad-taste idea for the cover of his George magazine. Surprisingly, Madonna had the good taste to decline! Too much of an ick factor for her, dressing up as her ex's mother? (Jackie? Oh!) The only reason Madonna gave for turning down the photo op: “My eyebrows aren’t thick enough...." (My God, how thick did they have to be, honey? You were asked to impersonate Jacqueline Kennedy, not Groucho Marx!) In any event, Madonna just wasn't ready for this kind of drag.

Madonna was no stranger to portraying First Ladies, however, as she famously assayed the role of Argentina's Eva Peron in the film version of Evita. So, maybe she simply decided she didn't want to make a cottage industry of it.

All this Madonna-goes-Jackie madness was reported by The New York Post on New Year's Day, and it was that sterling periodical that Photoshopped the above image, apparently, with the caption, "IM-MADGE-INE THAT! Madonna wrote a letter turning down John Kennedy Jr.’s offer to pose as his mom for George magazine — an image that might have looked something like this." The tabloid never fails to entertain, though not always for the right reasons. I doubt George's cover would have had Madonna wearing the iconic outfit Jackie wore in Dallas on the fateful day of JFK's assasination. Leave it to The Post to push the envelope on bad taste.

“'When you want me to portray Eva Braun or Pamela Harriman, I might say yes!'” [Madonna] wrote, referring, bizarrely, to Hitler’s mistress and the British socialite who married New York Gov. W. Averell Harriman and Winston Churchill’s son Randolph," The Post lasciviously informed its readership.

Yellow journalism has its advantages, like gossip as page 3 news. Anyhow, it was Drew Barrymore who ended up on the cover of the “Women in Politics” issue, ironically dressed as Marilyn Monroe in her infamous white halter dress from when she sang “Happy Birthday, Mr. President” to President Kennedy. Kind of twisted, no? (Hey, wait a minute! "Women in Politics?" Marilyn? Go figure.)