Time waits for no man … or woman
I just caught Barry Manilow on a late night show. Second time in the last month or so. Same reaction both times. OMG, he’s so thin! True, it’s been years since I’ve seen him. But still …
Then he starts singing and it’s like watching a spindly heron working the shallows. Strangest of all is his face. It doesn’t move. It is expressionless, emotionless. A shiny mask. This is not Barry Manilow. This is a strange mechanized Mannilow mannequin lip syncing old Mannilow hits.
How desperately sad that celebrities feel the need to do this to themselves. They aren’t fooling anyone. We know how old they are because we know how old we are.
I think somehow I feel insulted by it. Do they really think I’ll like them any less if they age at the same rate I do? It’s like they’re dumping their “old” fans, trying to stay young-looking to attract younger fans — as if younger fans will be attracted to Tussaud escapees.