CULTURE CLUBBING with George and The Boys

After years in the biz, very few things surprise me anymore. What the heck, I’ve railed at Rush. I fought it out with Fear. I battled the Bus Boys. I was double-dribbled by Dave Davies’ bodyguard. I’ve done it all; I’ve done it my way. Doubtless I’m dauntless.

Granted that I’m a veritable rock, let me confess I’m a bit taken aback by this Culture Club thang and—in particular— Boy George. I haven’t lost any sleep over the way the guy looks, but I don’t think anyone would disagree that he does look passably odd, Boy-wise. Hell, the guy’s a goof, and his face doesn’t match the voice on “Do You Really Want To Hurt Me.” Come to think of it, his face doesn’t match fingernails on the blackboard. But I don’t really want to make him cry—I like the Boy. He’s not my favorite Boy, of course, since I let two live in my house and they’ve got six years between ’em. Then there’s bill-paying Boys like Howdy!; I’m naturally partial to them. As far as Georges go, he’s a good George, but not a great George; e.g., Curious (the monkey) and Of The Jungle, the TV star.