Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: MONDAY, April 1, 1991 TAG: 9104010015
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: E-3 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: CODY LOWE STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
Why else would a University of North Carolina graduate be willing to miss the last half of his alma mater's appearance in the semifinals of the NCAA basketball tournament?
To take his daughter and her friend to a Vanilla Ice concert? Just because she'll only turn 13 once?
OK, I was ruling out the possibility that I'm an idiot.
It goes without saying (being a Carolina grad) that I'm a basketball fanatic. And I don't care much for rap (loosely defined as) music. I admit that I identified with those in the Friday Extra story who figure nobody likes this white-boy-in-a-black-performers' world - except the 7 million fans who have bought his "To the Extreme" album.
But, what the heck, I've always prided myself on liking ALL kinds of music. I keep telling my daughter that as I alternate Lennon and McCartney with Beethoven and Mozart on the family CD player. The question was: Is this music?
He was "awesome" (read that underlined with two exclamation points), said my daughter, Carrie, and her friend, Angie Kessler, the recipients of this birthday largesse.
"He had awesome dance numbers," Angie said. "It was pretty cool," Carrie concluded.
Only a few minutes into the opening song of the first of two warm-up acts I realized I was developing an intense sympathy for the Iraqi soldiers who were subjected to continual Allied bombardments.
I was worried that I'd begin to hemorrhage internally. It wasn't just that it was LOUD; the sound equipment apparently was not made to handle the load because it was all muffled and occasionally pierced by feedback.
Of course, as it turned out, the bad sound of Riff and The Party made Vanilla Ice sound good.
"It was way too loud," Carrie concluded. Uh-uh, said Angie, "It was very loud, but not too loud."
OK, so I never have understood all the words to "Brown Sugar," either, but I was pretty sure the lyrics were in English. Hard to tell - sometimes - with Vanilla Ice and company.
What this art form does carry on with a vengeance from rock 'n' roll is an obsession with sex, though nothing so subtle as "Brown Sugar."
Rappers have taken Elvis' pelvic thrusts and intensified them about 100 times, added the strategic crotch-grabbing by innovator Michael Jackson, and added simulated sex with the floor in the course of the dance routines.
"He was funny when he started looking down his britches," Angie said. "It was kinda gross," Carrie said, though she had been guilty of laughing, too.
For most of the predominantly female, very white, very middle-class audience the reaction was screaming, arm-hammering appreciation.
The Iceman's revelation that he was lonely after a year and a half of touring turned 'em on. Especially after he repeatedly snapped out the top of his elasticized pants to check out "the feeling" he had down there.
"I thought his speech was perfect to a tee," though, Carrie said to Angie's enthusiastic agreement.
"The speech" was the informative interlude when Vanilla Ice assured his fans that no matter what they hear on TV or read in the newspapers, he "never made nothing up" about his background.
The talk-show hosts and journalists "who try to tear me down" are just jealous, the Iceman concluded to a screaming endorsement.
They "try to knock me down just because I'm trying to get what's mine." It doesn't matter, though, "because I got beautiful fans like you."
He also encouraged the crowd to get on its feet (although that wasn't really necessary) since "I am proof that white people can dance."
Funny, but I thought that was Fred Astaire.
Ice then let the crowd - who knew every word by heart - sing his hit "Ice, Ice Baby."
In fairness to the screaming thousands who stood and shouted the entire two hours Vanilla Ice was on stage, I have to say the only apparent disappointment in the house was seen in the eyes of the occasional parent/chaperone who looked as if she couldn't get out soon enough. All the younger crowd seemed perfectly well-pleased.
"It was very much worth seeing," Carrie concluded. "It was very much worth the $17.50 for the tickets," Angie agreed.
Of course, she didn't pay for any tickets.
And to top it all off, Carolina lost the game.
by CNB