I remember when Olivia Newton-John was all the rage. She was truly one of the most beautiful women who ever lived. I remember that incredible scene with her and John Travolta in the movie Grease. That scene nearly brought me to puberty. It was less about the scene though and more about Olivia Newton-John. I felt like we were finally getting to see the naughty side of her that rarely, if ever, came out. Maybe that was wrong, but the key was I didn’t know. If Britney Spears or Madonna did a similar scene, I might yawn my way through it. These two women have done more damage to the naughty factor than any two women in entertainment. I remember when Madonna upped the ante on the naughty factor with her “too hot for TV” video Justify My Love. I’m embarrassed to say that I rented it. I’m not embarrassed to say this because I realized that it was too hot for TV. I’m embarrassed to say I rented it, because implicit in that statement is the fact that I fell for it. It was boring. She’s boring. The whole movement to break boundaries is boring. We could use another Olivia Newton-John type to bring back the wholesome nature of things, so that we can return naughtiness to the imagination.
Writers of fiction are generally a boring lot. They fall in love with their words so often that they forget to write about something interesting. They provide great detail about the snow outside, the clouds in the sky, and the angst ridden nature of the character, but at the end of the seventeen page description the main character ends up getting in the car. Nothing happens. If the character gets into that car and does something interesting I am all for it, but most writers forget to give you a payoff. Either that or they don’t have one, and all the beautiful language is meant to cover for that fact.