Dancing with the Stars

Yesterday, I watched a bit of Dancing With The Stars. Personally I feel that current performances seem to have fizzled a little, I sadly admit that I am not that interested in the new roster of dancers. In my humble, blog-opinion, Wayne Newton, should have just stuck with his successful Vegas, singing career and not branched out to embrace another entertainment discipline. Some people just don't make this transition well and it's mostly due to their mature age. When you get older, you can't fake fluidity of movement, especially when your bunions are acting up or your pulled groin muscle decides to flare up while you are hoisting up your lovely dancing partner over your head.

I am just using this as an "example" and not implying that Wayne has any of the above problems. He may, in fact, be in better shape than most of us, but the point is, he looks as if his dancing may be influenced by his true chronological age and not his newly acquired "Hollywood" age. Hollywood ages differently than the rest of the world and Wayne is no exception to this phenomenon. Take for example, his rather lacklustre facial expressions, or should I say "expression". I say this in the singular because he no doubt has had Botox injections to suppress any movement that his face might be wanting to make, at any given time. This is probably what bothered me the most about Wayne, and as he swept his partner across the dance floor, I was not watching his feet or dance style, but was mesmerized by his face! His brand new face.

Alas, Wayne was voted off, and is no longer compelled to dance before us, but that doesn't stop me from wanting to put him under the spotlight and further examine him. For some reason, I just find him to be very unusual in appearance and think that his new face is a little surreal due to the plastic surgery. I am having a flash back to another time and place, to the Wayne I knew and admired. He had facial muscles that could actually function back then! If you would go back a few decades, I would like to remind everyone that Wayne sported, what humanity would come to call, "the Wayne Newton moustache". I haven't googled up this actual phrase, but I assume that somewhere in the guts of google, you would find a reference to the pencil thin, black moustache that lined his upper lip with frightening precision. No one else was sporting the pencil thin moustache at that time, and he was either way ahead of the trend or way behind. In either case, it seemed to launch his career in the tacky nightclub world of Las Vegas, where he would do what he does best. Sing. The moustache just seemed to jettison his career and launch a new debonaire and sporty look. It worked for him and made him look French, which for an entertainer is a good thing...

I am not sure what else I can say about Wayne Newton right now, but perhaps something will come to me later on when I am drinking my vodka and orange juice. Later...