I don't know. This entertainment. It's really bad. It's just not at the level to belong on this grandiose stage.
ME (to Meade): "What were those piano guys called? The Piano Guys?"
ME: "Yeesh." (I can't believe I watched them at the concert last night, and now I have to sit through this again.)
MEADE (reading the internet): "They're a YouTube sensation. From Utah."
Did that one lady who sang "Mack the Knife" end with "Now that Trump is back in town!"? The character in the song "Mack the Knife" is a serial murderer!
I couldn't believe the children singing. It went on so long! Wasn't it their bedtime? All those 60s pop songs that never go away, so you never miss them. I never want to hear "Can't Help Myself" again, but I'm utterly appalled when a little girl who looks about 9 sings the line "I'd do anything you ask me to." Have words lost all meaning?
I know there was a lot of bullying of performers, so that it was very difficult to put this show together at all creditably. I appreciate the predicament. And I know I don't have to watch. I do think averting one's eyes would be best.
Now a bunch of men are clogging. They're attractive men. Oh! He's doing his horse routine and they projected a photo of a statue of a soldier on a horse. Oh, no, they projected the Iwo Jima, flag-raising sculpture. What does Iwo Jima have to do with buff men clogging?
ME (doing voiceover for a dancer): "Let me waggle my ass at you in a military fashion."
I don't really want Sam Moore's backbone to slip. He's 81.
FINALLY: Trump and Melania appear. Her white dress reminds me of cake decorating. Her bare shoulders glimmer. Trump's tux has extremely baggy pants. He eschews tailoring. That's his style. They dance that dance that's not really a dance — just rocking back and forth. I'm worried that the bulky Trump will squish the delicate swirl of fabric that extends from Melania's extensive bust. The dress is floor-length and then some, and I'm sure he's treading on it. Don't tread on me!
The song is "My Way" — "I ate it up and spit it out."