Review: Hope for Haiti telethon
Hegan's entertainment review of the Hope for Haiti telethon
WARNING: contains Celine Dion, Neil Young's jowls, and Anderson Cooper's biceps.
Here's the concert review:
I had a teacher in elementary school whose name was Mrs. Hate. No lie. She was the least popular teacher in my school.
Coincidence? I think not. She must've known her name was bad. Yet Mrs. Hate never thought to herself, "Wow, my name is terrible. I should change it to something nice." Guaranteed: if she had been Mrs. Love instead of Hate, every boy would've had a crush on her.
Which is my way of saying that Haiti should change its name to Lovey.
Who wants to visit a place that sounds like Hatey? Not me. Hatey sounds like a place even God would despise. And given Haiti's history, I'm starting to think He does. In the past few years, Haiti's been devastated by earthquakes, floods, corrupt dictatorships, civil warfare, crushing poverty, and four hurricanes in 2008 alone.
Um, God? Everyone knows you can be a bully. But the way You hammer Haiti, it's getting ridiculous. What's the grudge, man?
Then last week, Haiti had to endure another calamity.
I'm referring of course to the Hope for Haiti Telethon. What a catastrophe. Now, don't get me wrong. I salute every performer who donated their time to sing on our screens. Their efforts raised over 66 million dollars for earthquake victims -- a record for a disaster telethon.
I wouldn't suggest that you performed on the telethon to raise your profile and promote your career. No, you donated time for an important cause and I respect that.
Hell, it's not like I did anything to help. Sure, I gave twenty bucks. But until the telethon, I wasn't doing a damn thing for Haiti except marvelling at Anderson Cooper's biceps. But suddenly you stepped into the spotlights and showed us how to care.
Thank you, Mainstream Rock Stars.
That said, the telethon was televised so it technically qualifies as 'entertainment'. Ergo, I feel 100% justified in reviewing it as I would any concert that totally sucked balls.
And, man, did it suck balls.
Now, I skipped the Canada telethon because:
(A) Ben Mulroney should fall down a well
(B) Who wants to watch Wayne Gretzky or Celine Dion do anything?
(C) the US lineup had hotter looking singers like Shakira, Christina Aguilera, and Madonna if you squint your eyes and remember your childhood.
So I watched the American telethon in a rowdy downtown bar. I was excited. I was about to be rocked for two hours by a star-studded lineup: Bruce Springsteen, Coldplay, Sting, Stevie Wonder, Kid Rock, Sheryl Crow, Bono, The Edge, Rihanna, and Jay-Z.
But by the third song, I was depressed. It was the bleakest concert I've ever sat through. Everybody dressed in black, except for Neil Young who went with grey. Look: I bought a colour TV for a reason.
And instead of a joyous celebration of the dead, like an Irish wake or a New Orleans ragtime, their songs were all miserable, wrist-cutting dirges:
• Hard Times
• Alone and Forsaken
• Bridge Over Troubled Water
• Motherless Child
What a downer. If I was Haitian, and I watched that concert while trapped under some rubble, I would've given up all hope of being rescued.
But I'm not willing to abandon telethons. They serve too great a purpose. So looking forward, I propose the following Rules for Rockstar Telethons:
#1) Don't rewrite your song to mention Haiti or whatever. It sounds trite and gimmicky.
#2) No folk songs. Play your happiest stuff and do it full tilt.
#3) Neil Young's jowls should never be filmed from the side.
#5) No telethons in bars. Broadcasting a telethon in drinking establishments only encourages heckling, and that just makes us all feel bad.
#6) No Dave Matthews. This is TV. I only want good-looking people.
#7) Muhammad Ali doesn't get to be on TV anymore. Yes, I know he has Parkinson's so Chris Rock had to speak for him. But Ali looked scared and that made me scared. [Then again, maybe he looked that way because Chris Rock read something completely different and Ali's true manifesto was suppressed. Who would know?]
#8) George Clooney must not wear pants. Sure, they raised 66 million bucks. But a pantless George could've brought in 75, easy.
-- Ken Hegan's Grade 2 teacher once said it was a pleasure to have Ken in her class.
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