Results tagged “the day the music died” from Overlooked

Those who are longtime readers know that as Overlooked's resident hunkologist, I possess a keen and discerning eye for delectable man candy, both topical and vintage. However, this talent is a gift and can sometimes prove unreliable if the inspiration does not strike: hence my bout of writer's block last week. Well, I'm sad to report that the block has persisted, but instead of fighting it, let's embrace it.

This week, I propose that we embark on a new voyage: one of "Faded Glory" Hunks. Specimens who had it all, but for one reason or another, completely lost it and are still waiting to get it back ("But lengli," you interrupt, "Isn't that the case just about every week?" To you I say PIPE DOWN). Our first inductee is none other than early 90s icon and Surreal Life inhabitant Robert Van Winkle, better known to you and me as Vanilla Ice; and our first topic of discourse is:

Find the rest of the list after the jump!

Ladies aren't the only ones who love him!

I just can’t put my finger on it. What makes Steven Seagal so alluring? Is it his ponytail? His frownies? His Asian eyes? Maybe the fact that he is a singer-songwriter? (I’m not joking.) No, as tempting as his chocolately-deep, velvety voice is, that isn’t what warms the cockles of my heart when I think of him.

Wait, could it be? Yes, I think it is!

It’s because he’s a reincarnated Tibetan Buddhist master! Oh Steven, only you could look that handsome in those muted yellow and red robes. But we are getting too far ahead of ourselves; Steven Seagal was awesome even before his close friend and spiritual master Penor Rinpoche declared him a reincarnated Buddhist master.

As the first white man to open his own Aikido dojo in Japan, he was already famous but after coming back from a 15-year hiatus in Japan, he became a legend. With films such as Above the Law, and Under Siege (I and II), Steven has proven himself not only a great writer and producer, but also an amazing action star with a hairstyle that rivals Nicolas Cage’s dangerously banging locks. Roger Ebert even praises our Steven, saying, “He [Steven] isn’t just a hunk”--even Ebert wants a piece of our Steven!

Clearly, Steven’s ponytail has vicariously proven to be his source of power and resonance, but that is another story. Steven’s blockbusters are not the only projects he has to his credit. He is also a massively accomplished singer-songwriter, releasing albums such as Songs from the Crystal Cave and Mojo Priest and penning such hits as the bluesy Talk To My Ass and the poppish Girl It’s Alright (complete with a music video set in Thailand about him marrying a Thai girl an eighth his age). Hey, even a big action star like Steven needs to fantasize about meeting the love of his life, especially if the first three ended with divorce (they didn’t deserve him). On Songs from the Crystal Cage, he even collaborated with another legend, Stevie Wonder, on My God, which features insightful lines like:

Why don't you put down that guitar, Steven?

Well, obviously Osama is a big fan of Steven’s music.

Much of the Seag's music is heavily influenced by his belief in Buddhism, which leads me to Steven being pronounced a reincarnation of a Tibetan Buddhist Master.

For a long time, Steven studied Buddhism under the Master Penor Rinpoche, but it wasn’t until 1997 that the Master realized that his student was himself a Master. You might wonder, how can an action star who so shamelessly promotes violence in his films be a Buddhist master? Well, all you haters out there need to understand that it's just entertainment, okay? And you know what? We Buddhists invented kicking ass so you best be steppin’, GIRLFRIEND. Or Steven might have to get all karate up in here—or whatever that thing he does is called.

I don't think I'm in Kansas anymore...

All my items were in the plastic tubs passing through the x-ray machine. I stood there holding my boarding pass and I.D. with one hand whilst trying to keep my pants up at a decent level with the other. The T.S.A. officer... agent?... The member of the T.S.A. lackadaisically motioned me through the metal detector. I hopped through it and presented my I.D. and boarding pass with a friendly, relaxed, and open smile.

"Mr..." (How he knew I was a mister I wasn't sure but my paranoid mind was awhirl with all the secret information compiled on me from open source resources). He checked himself before attempting to butcher my last name.

"Mr. Vale..." he made his attempt.

"Valenzuela, like the old pitcher for the Padres," I cut him off.

"Or like the singer Ritchie Valens, except he Americanized his name..." he looked at me dryly.

"Funny, Valens doesn't sound Native; I wonder which tribe he was affiliated with..." I smiled politely, innocently.

"Yeah, I liked his music." He was opening up to me; this caught me off guard. Usually you don't see the human side of the security checker people.

"He died in a plane crash!" I blurted out. I think it was the topic and the fact that salient thoughts of me getting on an airplane bubbled up from the guarded 'Don't make a joke about this' part of my brain that caused me to state something so obviously unspeakable at the time and place that I was.

He squinted his eyes and waited to see what I would do next.

"HAHA!" A strangled, nervous laugh escaped me. It is one of my worst habits: laughing at the most inopportune moments.

"He died with Buddy Holly and the Big Bopper and the pilot! They crashed into frozen Iowa farm country!" A torrent of information, that normally would have been useless conversation fodder or an interesting historical tidbit in the right social circles, was quite detrimental to my being on a plane.

"Yeah, if only the pilot had pulled that little knob to allow more heat into the engine..." He was impressed by my knowledge of the event, but wasn't sure if I was more infatuated with my family name-sake's history or of crashing planes.

His hesitation was my cue: I smiled a sad little smile and slowly shook my head. I raised my eyebrows, "The brilliant ones always fade out the quickest..."

"You got that right, partner." He handed me my ticket and I.D. and waved me on.

I put on my shoes and belt and gathered my things and thanked the mean looking T.S.A. lady that was eyeballing me and made my way to the lounge.

I'm just glad he didn't try to pronounce my Iranian first name...

Camden, New Jersey here I come!