Not since the 1960s have so many women gathered, screaming with perfumed abandon. Is it the Rolling Stones? Nope. The Beatles? Who are they? We're talking William Hung. And don't the ladies know it.
Tonight we decided to take reality television one step forward by participating in the phenomenon known as a William Hung free concert at North County Fair. I hate malls (gender abberation), but I had to go. And courtesy of my resident Tall Friend, Jon, I may even have photographic proof (if not the skillz to post them here).
So. Off we went. Jon dropped us off at the front door and headed off to battle parking. There could be no doubt that the cream-colored Avant limo was for the Hungster (not to be confused with the Hongster). But the legions of screaming women and children? Amazing.
There was quite a lot of build-up to the performance. As muted pop blared through the mall's speakers, we rushed around Robinsons May (not sure of name, just giving you an image) to find a good vantage point. There was none to be had. Even where you could find a space to stand, it was only to be eye-level with youngster-ass, suspended midair in a fatherly display of shoulder-perching. Having made the inappropriate (for the circumstances) choice to wear flat sneakers for the night, I was relegated to merely listening to Will perform, periodically gazing at the posters and pictures of him hanging behind me in an effort to create a more immediate environment for myself. The crowd took mercy on me and parted ways just enough for me to catch the sweep of his hair across his happy forehead. *Hi William* His background dancers swayed, and he sang. About the Circle of Life. Which got a girl thinking.
What in the hell is going on here?
I have had a really tough time telling if America is fascinated by him, or making fun of him. At first, I thought it was brutality of the underhanded junior high 'we let him hang out with us - DORK!' kind. You see, I didn't realize that he set up his OWN website. Now, the pieces fall together-- this guy is at Berkeley. He's no dummy. He's capitalizing on something that usually only makes it as far as a set of 6 life-affirming tapes on a late night infomercial, for 4 easy installments of $39.95 plus tax.
In a weird way (one involving grand stage entrances via two-floor christmas-lit mall elevator), William made his dream come true. I mean, come on, what's the difference between playing Staples center and the mall? (I wouldn't doubt that Kelly Clarkson had to play a few malls in her day, anyway.) He wanted attention. He wanted to sing. I doubt he even thought so far as the pleasant-looking women swaying supportively behind him tonight.
My theory is this: America is watching and drooling over the concept that Everyone is a Star. The fact that his career is preposterous makes it all the more loveable. I mean, it makes sense. We don't love Madonna because she can sing. We love her because she's entertained herself and us and made shitloads of $ by *not* being able to. She's not this untouchable talent; she's just another girl with persistence and a good sense of humor and a business mind. Like the kind of mind that sets up a website immediately following humiliation on a national scale.
If the crowds of tonight are anything to go by, Hung's fans are as much the lone adults strolling the periphery as the young girls who screamed the adorations previously reserved for Justin Timberlake and his prepubescent counterpart Aaron Carter.
The rest of us who get lazy with our dreams (statistical overlap with the populations who hang around malls?) enjoy and live vicariously.
William for President.
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