……….in my underwear…..not totally naked, but naked enough….and I danced with abandon to, who else? Barry Manilow…….and I’d sing as I danced because his music opened my emotional heart and like some weepy teen, I was laid bare by Barry.
Yep…..he did indeed write the songs that made the whole world sing, at least my world, and unashamedly, I was the essential definition of FAN…I was a Barry Manilow FANGIRL…..it didn’t matter that he was gay as a rainbow….i adored him and made love to him as I flung my slender tall 30 year old body around the furniture ….it wasn’t a physical love making…but then again, yes it was….his tapes and records moved me…literally moved my yearning body in a way I was never free enough to show in public….i became the Isadora Duncan of Manilow-dom!!!! A soft rock Delphic spirit……I wept to his aching and arching melodies….sobbed with my entire body to his corny brilliant orchestral arrangements….i worshipped, mostly naked, at the shrine of Barry, and was not shy about telling my scornful friends how much I adored his songs.
Nobody in my crowd liked Barry Manilow….but I loved him.
His music made me dance, and it easily convinced me that he understood what truly mattered in my emotional life…..Barry forever…..
I even saw him perform live on Broadway….and along with all those New Jersey housewives I screamed and swooned and sighed…and felt he sang only for me!
How’s that for naked?
At least as far as a personal admission goes!