Whenever I see Barack Obama giving one of his speeches, I can't help but be brought back to the third grade, when We Are the World dominated the airwaves, making compassion and openheartedness seem like the better alternative to scratching out the eyes of your neighbor to secure a Cabbage Patch doll for your screaming child.
We Are the World (song and video) plays in my head when I see Barack Obama standing there behind his podium, all proud to be a human being living in the world's community. Yes, Berlin, I am a proud American...and I love the world, too. I love everyone in the world. The world is my cabana on the beach. The world is my oak desk with the glowing green desk lamp. The world is my SpongeBob ice-cream pop with the gumball eyes. The world is...you get what I'm saying, right?
You remember the We Are the World days, don't you? My cousin Tony and I, who were about 9 and 10 years old at the time, were obsessed with it. Every chance we got, we broke it down piece by piece and analyzed the individual voices when we heard it. My favorite part was Cindy Lauper's part, even though my cousin Tony deemed it too "showy" and threw his support behind Dionne Warwick, whose part I always forgot when we sang the song. Which leads me to the question, whatever happened to Paul Young? And why was Dan Aykroyd up there, singing and swaying along in the video?
Anyway, our stark nerdiness for the song nearly infected the rest of our family on Easter Sunday of 1985. We had all gathered at our house that year to celebrate the holiday, which was marked as even more special because my little sister had recently been born, and my father had bought himself a video camera.
Now, in case you are thinking that this was a video camera of a reasonable size, think again. Remember, it was 1985, so there was no real convenience associated with this monstrosity. The camera was like a rocket launcher perched on the shoulder, and you couldn't go far with it because the VHS tape slot was not built into the camera itself. No, if you followed the thick, black cord that spat out of the ass of the camera it would lead you to a forty pound VHS player. That's what you had to drag along with you if you foolishly opted to move. Say cheese!
Anyway, we all thought it was the coolest, most high-tech thing in the world, and were eager to get ourselves in front of it. Hey, film me, Dad. Dad, film me. Franco, watch this. Watch this, Franco. Did you get that? I want to see it. Move over, he's filming me now. Move over. Owwww, stop pushing me. Dad, Dad, over here. Look, Dad, look! Are you looking? Franco, over here! Over here, Franco!
Of course, my father, after watching years of American television, really thought he had the television broadcasting system down. Instead of counting us off with, Three, two, one...you're on the air, he'd authoritatively say, "Wan, two, tree....en you een da area."
So, that Easter Sunday, with my cousin Tony and I sharing "area" time as we sang our favorite parts from We Are the World in front of the camera, my Uncle John had an idea. "Let's take this seriously," he said. "Let's do this for real." In other words, no more spontaneous fun would be had, but we didn't know that yet. My cousin Tony and I nearly jumped out of our skintight clothes, we were so excited. What a great idea! Could this really be happening?
Quickly, we set up rows of chairs in front of the video camera and put people in position. You stand here. You're Bette Midler. You, you, and you...you three stand here. You're the Pointer Sisters. Bruce Springsteen, here. Michael Jackson? Anyone? Anyone want to be Michael Jackson? Of course, no one stayed put and everyone complained, save for my cousin Tony and I who sat in our positions and got increasingly frustrated when no one else seemed to be as enthusiastic to partake in the wonders of our We Are the World basement revival as we were.
Speaking of wonders, my Uncle Clement was tossed from the video shoot by my Uncle John because of his "over-the-top" performance as Stevie Wonder. Thus, in an inspired act of rebellion, my Uncle Clement and my cousin Ricky, who were about 13 and 14, respectively, decided to turn our We Are the World video shoot into a terrorist video shoot. So, oblivious to the evil lurking behind you, you'd be singing, in earnest, about saving the world, when suddenly, a cap gun would fire next to your head and a red balloon (meant to symbolize your exploding brain) would be tossed into the air behind you. You're dead. Stop singing.
My Uncle John called them both jackasses and they eventually skulked off into the living room to join the rest of the people who were cast off the increasingly miserable island of hope and world peace. My cousin Tony and I ended up singing the whole thing ourselves. Family members would walk in and out of the frame to get milk out of the fridge, or a glass out of the cabinet, and we would want to kill them. When it came time to hit the choruses, off-key Italian-accented voices could be heard coming from various points in the house, as two sad kids helplessly sat in front of the camera, trying desperately to hold onto the melody line...with their dreams crushed.
That said, corny as it sounds, Barack Obama really does give me hope for a united world. My more specific hope though is this: that he have better luck with uniting the world in peace than we had with uniting our family in song.
There comes a time, when we heed a certain call...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jcrwu6WGoMs
We Are the World (song and video) plays in my head when I see Barack Obama standing there behind his podium, all proud to be a human being living in the world's community. Yes, Berlin, I am a proud American...and I love the world, too. I love everyone in the world. The world is my cabana on the beach. The world is my oak desk with the glowing green desk lamp. The world is my SpongeBob ice-cream pop with the gumball eyes. The world is...you get what I'm saying, right?
You remember the We Are the World days, don't you? My cousin Tony and I, who were about 9 and 10 years old at the time, were obsessed with it. Every chance we got, we broke it down piece by piece and analyzed the individual voices when we heard it. My favorite part was Cindy Lauper's part, even though my cousin Tony deemed it too "showy" and threw his support behind Dionne Warwick, whose part I always forgot when we sang the song. Which leads me to the question, whatever happened to Paul Young? And why was Dan Aykroyd up there, singing and swaying along in the video?
Anyway, our stark nerdiness for the song nearly infected the rest of our family on Easter Sunday of 1985. We had all gathered at our house that year to celebrate the holiday, which was marked as even more special because my little sister had recently been born, and my father had bought himself a video camera.
Now, in case you are thinking that this was a video camera of a reasonable size, think again. Remember, it was 1985, so there was no real convenience associated with this monstrosity. The camera was like a rocket launcher perched on the shoulder, and you couldn't go far with it because the VHS tape slot was not built into the camera itself. No, if you followed the thick, black cord that spat out of the ass of the camera it would lead you to a forty pound VHS player. That's what you had to drag along with you if you foolishly opted to move. Say cheese!
Anyway, we all thought it was the coolest, most high-tech thing in the world, and were eager to get ourselves in front of it. Hey, film me, Dad. Dad, film me. Franco, watch this. Watch this, Franco. Did you get that? I want to see it. Move over, he's filming me now. Move over. Owwww, stop pushing me. Dad, Dad, over here. Look, Dad, look! Are you looking? Franco, over here! Over here, Franco!
Of course, my father, after watching years of American television, really thought he had the television broadcasting system down. Instead of counting us off with, Three, two, one...you're on the air, he'd authoritatively say, "Wan, two, tree....en you een da area."
So, that Easter Sunday, with my cousin Tony and I sharing "area" time as we sang our favorite parts from We Are the World in front of the camera, my Uncle John had an idea. "Let's take this seriously," he said. "Let's do this for real." In other words, no more spontaneous fun would be had, but we didn't know that yet. My cousin Tony and I nearly jumped out of our skintight clothes, we were so excited. What a great idea! Could this really be happening?
Quickly, we set up rows of chairs in front of the video camera and put people in position. You stand here. You're Bette Midler. You, you, and you...you three stand here. You're the Pointer Sisters. Bruce Springsteen, here. Michael Jackson? Anyone? Anyone want to be Michael Jackson? Of course, no one stayed put and everyone complained, save for my cousin Tony and I who sat in our positions and got increasingly frustrated when no one else seemed to be as enthusiastic to partake in the wonders of our We Are the World basement revival as we were.
Speaking of wonders, my Uncle Clement was tossed from the video shoot by my Uncle John because of his "over-the-top" performance as Stevie Wonder. Thus, in an inspired act of rebellion, my Uncle Clement and my cousin Ricky, who were about 13 and 14, respectively, decided to turn our We Are the World video shoot into a terrorist video shoot. So, oblivious to the evil lurking behind you, you'd be singing, in earnest, about saving the world, when suddenly, a cap gun would fire next to your head and a red balloon (meant to symbolize your exploding brain) would be tossed into the air behind you. You're dead. Stop singing.
My Uncle John called them both jackasses and they eventually skulked off into the living room to join the rest of the people who were cast off the increasingly miserable island of hope and world peace. My cousin Tony and I ended up singing the whole thing ourselves. Family members would walk in and out of the frame to get milk out of the fridge, or a glass out of the cabinet, and we would want to kill them. When it came time to hit the choruses, off-key Italian-accented voices could be heard coming from various points in the house, as two sad kids helplessly sat in front of the camera, trying desperately to hold onto the melody line...with their dreams crushed.
That said, corny as it sounds, Barack Obama really does give me hope for a united world. My more specific hope though is this: that he have better luck with uniting the world in peace than we had with uniting our family in song.
There comes a time, when we heed a certain call...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jcrwu6WGoMs
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