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Put one hand in the air

Today's Whitney Houston will sit you down and tell you all about her regrets and the winter storms she's suffered and how she's not built to break and why you should take her back like she never left, but nothing we've heard so far in advance of I Look to You has sold the theme of triumphant return as well as "Million Dollar Bill." Telling is one thing (a thing that often feels like dwelling), but "Million Dollar Bill" instead shows Whitney moving on to joy. It's like a sonic handkerchief to blot up the weepy ballads that have leaked in recent months.

It's also perfect. Clearly what Clive Davis, producer Swizz Beatz, writer Alicia Keys and Whitney are going for here is crafting her her own "Just Fine": an age-appropriate uptempo song that the kids can enjoy, too. It could work in a car commercial or at the end of some Tyler Perry movie when everything works out and the family gets down to dance themselves off-screen. "Just Fine" struck me as wishy-washy, though. It was a disco track that was kind of embarrassed about itself, forgoing the heavy orchestration and 4/4 beats it begged for and settling for something hand-clapped and relatively minimal. By borrowing heavily from Loleatta Holloway's "We're Getting Stronger," Swizz has crafted a jam for Whitney that falls right between the Philadelphia sound and disco. The flamboyance is at a surprising minimum. The source material is as unobvious as having a diva like Whitney sing over a track that stomps so forcefully is a no-brainer.

And about that singing, look: her voice is different than it was in her prime. It sounds reedy and weary with age, like sore bones in the morning. The marrow is still there, but what's around it is brittle and splintered. It's probably never again going to flip and soar through the air for us, but that's OK. It sounds lived-in. It sounds human. Back in the day, Whitney didn't have to do so much as part her lips to sound like a million bucks; after all she's been through, that she can feel that way at all is indeed something to sing about.

What's funny about this project is that before it's sold even a copy, its angle is success. Others wait for people to comment on their arrival; Whitney explicitly announces her comeback. If you can stomach the self-celebration, there's something worth admiring in defining success by means other than numbers. (It's also probably wise, considering the state of record sales in '09.) Whether Whitney making music worth listening to again signals an achievement probably depends on how much you care about her in the first place. But I'll tell you what: after all that shit -- the divorce, the crack den, the seemingly destroyed voice, the Ray J -- if even a tenth of the exuberance she projects on "Million Dollar Bill" is sincere, this is all the comeback that she needs.

Ridicted

I'm sick and otherwise distracted, so I'm gonna hand it (whatever "it" means) over to Tracie and direct you to her Jezebel post on her 15 Favorite Most Ridiculous Women in pop culture. AKA "15 Women Gay Men Love" aka my heroes. It's a nice rough guide to the crazy ladies of entertainment (a passion of mine), and I'm not just saying that because she used a few videos I cut as supporting evidence. Go laugh -- there's always room for extreme human behavior, right.

I just died a little.

Sniff, sniff.

I really think it's Clive's doing.

I'm your embarrassment tonight

Here's a picture of Whit performing at Sunday's Olympic medal ceremony in Turin:

Not bad, right? It's a little blurry, but there are no discernible stains on or holes in her coat and her hair is at least contained. She's looking relatively composed, I think.

Expressive, even!

Now, here's some audio from her performance (which will probably never surface on video, btw, because I don't think NBC bought broadcast rights to the performances that are being put on every night, if they're even being officially taped in the first place):

"I Will Always Love You (clip)"

Yikes. Just yikes. How is that love supposed to last forever when it sounds D.O.A.? She seriously sounds like Anne Ramsey.

Why does she even bother? Is it the money? She probably just broke even, considering what she had to spend on that fur.

Seriously, girl, get it together. Learn when to say, "I'm not doing this todaaaaaay."

(Images and audio are from the Classic Whitney forum.)

Edit: Here is a news report on the event. My favorite section:

Starting off with Greatest Love of All, Whitney "coughed, sniffled and talked her way through the song." She motioned a cough attack and, struggling, asked the audience, "Why did they choose to do this outdoors? I don't sing in the cold. It makes my voice funny," and then made the international hand-gesture for "crazy."

I really, really, really, really hope video footage surfaces. Crazy!

Exhale!

Relax, the universe won't be imploding any time soon. Bobby and Whitney are not getting divorced -- in a remarkably swift instance of damage control, he appeared on Wendy Williams' radio show on Wednesday and shot down the rumor that he and Whitney were splitting, just one day after it surfaced. And here I thought Bob's motor skills were permanently impaired.

This is the only celebrity union that matters: now the planned second season of Being Bobby Brown (premiere date as yet unknown, per the interview) can have all the batshit splendor it needs.

Posted below is the Wendy interview in its entirety (courtesy of the Whitney-Fan.com forum) -- be warned, though: Bobby's amicable. Unlike Whitney's infamous tangle with Wendy a few years back, there are no threats to meet Wendy outside for a rumble, no violent mood swings and no insane cackling. He doesn't even let any curses slip. When dealing with Wendy, he is everything his wife isn't. It's almost boring.

Bobby Brown on The Wendy Williams Experience, January 18, 2006

If you can't be bothered to listen/download, here are some highlights:

• Bobby took the short bus to school . . . on account of being bipolar (?)
• Bobby used to do heroin, but never shot it up.
• Wendy: Do you go to church? Bobby: I am a church.
• Bobby doesn't ever poke Whit in the butt: "That's not a place where something's supposed to go in." Yeah right.
• Bobby thinks this is his website.
• Whitney beat Bobby up in the wake of the Superhead allegations. Too bad the cameras weren't around. That woulda made for a very, very special episode of B³.
• Most of next season of B³ will follow his tour with New Edition, which kicks off the third week in March. Yeah, that sounds potentially boring.
• But this doesn't: "I want [Wendy] and Whitney to finally get together and have dinner, on Being Bobby Brown," says Bobby. What are the chances of a food fight?

On that upsetting picture published in the National Enquirer last week, Bobby had little to say -- he said something about Whit must have been walking the dog and denied that drugs had anything to do with her appearance. (An interesting footnote is Whitney's camp won't make a statement on the future of her marriage).

He might be right about it being no big deal, though -- while poking around for the audio of the interview, I came across this story: Basically, a few days ago, a fan with a record deal was recording in the same studio complex as Whit. He found her, and in her studio was a copy of that Enquirer issue, which she was laughing about with Jermaine Dupri and Terry Lewis (who are working with Whit on her new album). He had her autograph it for him, in possibly the best placement of a signature ever. Here it is:

Check it against her confirmed signature:

No smiley, but close. It really could be it.

If this story's real, if she has that kind of sense of humor and sense of self-awareness, she's more together than anyone, anyone thought. For the sake of our entertainment, I don't know if that's such a good thing.

(A lot of love goes to Erika C., who informed me of Bobby's appearance on the show.)

The wig ain't half of it

I know you've seen it already, but I feel the need to comment.

This . . .

. . . makes me sad.

And not even happily so.

But then, so does this:

At least those aren't my words fueling the search (they're from the comments of my first Being Bobby Brown recap). At least it isn't Google. But still. If she can't get her shit together, I can't recap the promised (but as-yet-unconfirmed-by-Bravo) second season, let alone watch it. Seriously, it would be cruel. I know the above-posted shot (purportedly recent -- if you don't know the at-least-slightly suspicious, not-so-reveleaory-anyway [we already knew her voice was shot!] story read it here) is just a step away from this . . .

. . . this . . .

. . . or this . . .

But it's a big step. You might even say that this time, she stepped on a crack.

Like I said in the comments of Fresh's post on the matter, what I hate the most about that shot is how happy she looks. Like a kid in a candy store but not aware enough to see what makes that funny (she's holding candy, btw). For me, things have turned creepy.

I'm hopeful, but not stupid. If she fucking dies, like, tomorrow, I wonder if mixed with my immense sadness will be guilt for laughing at her for so long?

But then, if she can just reel it in slightly we're all good: summer will be wonderful again, watching her on the brink. Just as long as she's on the right side of it.

Bittersweet memories

I don't know what I miss more: the idyllic days of college, or the idyllic days of Being Bobby Brown. These pictures aren't helping me decide.

What . . .

. . . the . . .

. . . fuck?!?

This last one is my favorite because you can practically feel the cordiality break like humidity:

No idea when these are from though they look fairly recent. Thanks to Jasmine for the heads-up. All of these come from J U S T - W H I T N E Y. C O M, which has a gallery full of hilarious candids.

In other news, Carly requested a shot of Tyra with Winston's head Photoshopped on. I'm not asking questions, though I think everyone can agree that this is neither's best shot:

Being the beautiful young lady that God sent her here to be

Yeah. Obsessed. I don't even play with my cats anymore. It's only about Whitney, Whitney, Whitney.

I hate how sanctimonious people are about Whitney. "Look at how far down she's sunk. Such a voice. Such looks. Wasted. It's such a shame," they might say after watching Whitney consitently say whatever the fuck on Being Bobby Brown. Whatever, no it's not. It's not a shame because Whitney is a born entertainer (slash born reality show subject) who will serve her function by hook or by crook (and no, I'm not going to make a crack joke even though "crook" sounds like "crack," because "Crack is wack" is the old new "Is that your final answer?").