Suddenly, I’m gaga over Gaga. Which makes me feel like the guy who shows up at the party looking for a drink, and the only thing left is the half-empty bottle of lukewarm beer with a cigarette butt floating around. A late arrival, I am, and not at all fashionably so.
Until just a few nights ago, I was proud to proclaim — loudly, I might add — that I had never heard the music of Lady Gaga. But of course I had.
It’s not like I was lying, though. I just had no idea.
When I switched on the TV ridiculously late the other night, hoping to catch some scores on SportsCenter or maybe an episode of Iconoclasts, I happened to notice in the on-screen listings that there was a nine-hour special about Lady Gaga on some station named Fuse. Nine hours! What could they possibly say Continue reading
Jeff Wagenheim 