Bone In The Fan

Di Dip Dippy Doody I love you.

I don’t even know where to begin.  I was thinking about working up some sort of lame excuse explaining why I watched The Two Coreys again; maybe something about keeping up with pop culture, or looking for easy pickings for a blog post.  But the truth is that the part of my brain that can ignore retarded programming never completely developed.  A remnant of too much crappy sitcom viewing when I was younger (”All In The Family” may have been great, but there was only so much “Three’s Company” that it could counteract) or a by-product of too much red dye #2, my compulsion to watch bad, fake reality TV may be embarrassing, but it served me well this week at last.

Because though Feldman’s sunglasses may be a hilariously bad joke, even when combined with the hundreds of portraits of Feldman on the walls in his house and his ridiculous clothing they can’t deliver the laughs to carry a full 22 minutes (it’s close though, believe me.) But the “All You Need Is Love” episode delivered so much more.

Based around the idea that we should care if these two dopes have a positive Valentine’s day experience, we get compare and contrast what it’s like to be a Corey on February 14. Watching the Haimster pursue two lucky women is good: The first all but admits she’s having dinner with him to try and build an acting career. The second appears to be a real catch for the Haimanizor, so he pulls out the big guns and risks it all with the line “should we pursue?” This in reference to a relationship, not a purse snatcher. If this guy ever had moves, he must have hocked them for crack in the nineties.

But as idiotic as that narcissistic mess Haim is, he can relax this week because the episode will be remembered for the smooth song stylings of non other than Corey “I’m Not Corey Hart, But Wish I Was” Feldman (I touched on Feld-dog’s confusion in my previous post about The Two Coreys.) Valentine’s day at my house means Joanna and I talk about how much we don’t like Hallmark holidays.  Valentine’s day at the Feldman house means it’s time to torture some hired musicians.

Apparently Corey Feldman believes he’s a musician.  And songwriter.  And singer. Delusions that aren’t surprising since he still apparently thinks he’s an actor. At any rate, he decided he wanted to perform one of his songs for his wife, live, poolside, with a string section, piano and backup singers. So he hires an arranger, and plays the original version of the song for him.  On a jukebox.  What I’m saying here is that he has his own crappy vanity singles loaded on the Wurlitzer jukebox in his house.

So the arranger starts to play it on piano (a white Baldwin grand to be exact, which I thought had been outlawed for being too fucking stupid looking) while Feldman starts to sing, though he promptly forgets the words, building much tension and excitement. Will he make it through the big show? Will he get to “bury the bone” (as his assistant put it in the episode) in his wife?  Does anyone in America have thinner fucking lips?

The big moment finally arrives.  Feldman is dressed in some sort of black Captain EO jacket and looking like the leader of some futuristic Southern California authoritarian sect. His wife arrives home, the strings start, the piano kicks in, and Feldman launches into this song-like product:

Springtime flowers bloom
air of mystery.
Never come too soon
Make it time like the night you came to me.

Here he points to the backup singer, then gazes slyly at his wife.  But oh! Verse II is up!

You bring the stars up to the moon,
but when you leave you’re gone too soon.

Backup singer: “I don’t know how to say it….oh my love” - then back to Feldman.  But let me set the stage here: he’s poolside at his home. His wife is about four feet in front of him at the bottom of about five small steps, and he’s singing into a mic. Because, you know, you gotta give it up to the people in the cheap seats.  But back to the lyrics:

I write this song to you.
Nobody ever makes me feel the way that you do.
I dedicate this song.
Because you make my (unintelligible due to him being overcome because his wife has started crying)

Nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah yeah.
Nah nah nah nah nah nah hey yeah!
Di Dip Dippy Doody I love you.

I’m going to pause here for one more moment, because that last line deserves some special recognition, and also because at this point he starts to walk down the steps in a rather jaunty fashion, approaches his wife, grasps here lovingly by the back of her neck, puts his forehead against hers and begins to SCREAM the rest of the song into her face. It went a little something like this:

You know I love you baby
You know I love you baby
I really love you

Then in a final, limp, pitchy falsetto:

On and on.

Holy shit. Do I even need to say it’s painful to hear him try to sing? And what the hell does “you bring the stars up to the moon” mean, anyway?  And what does that have to do with leaving too soon?  Or not coming too soon?  And correct me if I’m wrong, but if you actually did bring the stars up to the moon, wouldn’t the earth burn up?

Bookmark and Share