I just got to England. I’m sitting here now with my tea. I Twittered about my plane, which was called the Dancing Queen, and the fact that they played Abba on the Dancing Queen, and then the Dancing Queen got stuck on the runway for about three hours because Air Force One had just been at JFK and all the planes were backed up.
Just in case you think I make these things up, I took a picture:
Click the photo to make it bigger. SEE? I DID NOT MAKE THIS UP!
In the last few weeks, MANY things have happened that I need to tell you about. So many things, in fact, that I need to spread them out over a few posts.
Let’s do the most serious news first. I think you know what I am talking about.
No. Not the fact that all the money is broken and Wall Street fell over sideways. I barely noticed that in the face of the REAL NEWS.
The morning I read the REAL NEWS, I had just made myself a smoothie . . . one of my favorite smoothies, in fact. I had all of this great fruit and I had just GONE for it, smoothie-wise. You know when you just GO for it, smoothie-wise? You put it ALL in and you pretty much guarantee yourself a great day? Well, I had done that. And then I sat down and read this.
Dear ABBA lovers! We hereby announce the sad news that it won’t be possible to open the ABBA museum in Stockholm in 2009. The reasons are that the premises where the museum was to be built will not be ready in time and that the project in several respects has become more complex than we had counted on. This is very sad for everyone involved and especially for all the fans the world over who are longing for the day when the museum opens. But please keep a bright outlook on the future – there will be an ABBA museum . . .
About an hour later, when I could lift my head from the desk, I took a sip of my now warm and separated smoothie. It tasted like metal. I mean, a lot like metal. So much like metal that I went and checked the blades on the blender to see if they were still there. They were, but I suspected that I had gotten just a hint-o-blade in my drink. So I poured it down the sink, then I took down my disco ball and peeled off the glass tiles one by one and flicked them against the wall. I was in a funk, and not a good funk, like one that Boostie Collins might drop in on.
I tried listening to “Tiger” and “Does Your Mother Know?” and “Take a Chance on Me”, but nothing worked. Finally, I decided that I had to stop moping and fix my blender and disco ball. And for that, I needed a little hammer. (I have a caveman’s instinct for tools and believe most issues can be resolved with a little hammer, or, if things are VERY serious, my little drill.)
So I went to the subway to go to the store to buy myself a little hammer. On my way there, I saw this newspaper:
WHAT DOES THIS HEADLINE MEAN?
“The world has gone insane,” I mumbled.
So I got my hammer from the Little Hammer Shop and got another subway back home. As I slumped dejectedly in the seat, watching the stations snap past, I saw that the guy next to me was reading “My First Five Husbands” by former Golden Girl Rue McClanahan. I moved closer to him, seat by seat, on the sly.
“You seem sensible,” I said. “What do you think I should do?”
He jumped, startled by my sudden appearance.
“About what?” he asked.
“The Abba Museum,” I explained. “It’s been delayed. They say they have all the costumes and everything to go in it, but the building is taking longer than they thought. I don’t know why it’s so complicated to put up a building. People put up buildings all the time. And I realize this is a VERY IMPORTANT building, but you would think they would use every resource available and . . .”
I guess I took my little hammer out of the bag at some point in all of this and started waving it around in agitation. He moved away a little, very slowly.
“I don’t know,” he said.
“Well, what would Rue McClanahan do?”
“I don’t know. Marry someone?”
“That’s not going to help,” I said, in disgust.
“Why don’t you go there,” he added quickly. “You could help them. With that, um, hammer.”
Friends, it was like the sun came out from between the clouds.
“You’re right,” I said. “The Swedes are a very proud people. They didn’t want to ask for my help, even though they needed it! You, sir, are a genius.”
“Listen,” I said. “Abba needs my help. It’s urgent. I have to get to Stockholm with my little hammer immediately.”
“Of course they do,” she said. “You and your hammer. Got it.”
“I’ve got to get on a fast plane,” I said, throwing some clothes in a suitcase and gathering up the mirror tiles from my disco ball. “There’s no time to waste.”
“One question,” Daphne said. “Scarlett Fever . . . you know, the book you’re working on?”
“I CAN DO BOTH.”
“Of course you can. But I just need you to know . . .”
“Look,” I said, “I am a professional writer. I can balance my life. I can help build the Abba Museum with a little hammer and write a book at the same time. I can do lots of things at the same time! Remember that time I made you an origami butterfly while summarizing . . . well, not so much summarizing as explaining in detail . . . the entire plot of the movie Xanadu?”
“All too well. The thing is . . .”
“Why can’t you just have FAITH in me?” I demanded.
“I was just talking to your editor, Emma Lollipop, and she was thinking that maybe instead of releasing Scarlett Fever next May, we should wait until just after Christmas. That way we can have a huge summer celebration for the paperback.”
I almost dropped my little hammer in surprise.
“That sounds like a good plan,” I said. “That way lots of people will be able to read the first book before the second comes out!”
“Well, exactly. Now, about this going to Sweden thing . . .”
But I had already dropped the phone. I had packing to do.
So that’s the Scarlett Fever news. I know next Christmas seems CRAZY FAR AWAY, but there will be LOADS going on between now and then. You won’t even NOTICE. Also! Let It Snow, a book I wrote with John Green and Lauren Myracle, is coming out in just over a week! It will be available on October 2nd!
Like I said, I am now in London. I’m here working on Scarlett Fever and YA for Obama . . . because both of those have to get finished before I can bust my way on to the building site in Stockholm.
Actually, I have other reasons for being here as well. And I have THE NAMES OF THE WINNERS OF THE SUITE SCARLETT SWEEPSTAKES!
When will I tell more sekrits? When will I reveal the winners?
TOMORROW.
REALLY, THIS TIME.
COME BACK AND SEE FOR YOURSELF.
(Just a note about YA for Obama . . . I want to thank the readers who aren’t Obama supporters, but still left very nice comments. You guys are awesome! I happen to be very pro-Obama, but I got lots of love in my heart for McCain supporters too. Like my dad, for instance, who is mega-Republican and sent me a nice note just this morning saying he NEEDS John McCain to win, but is still very proud in a dadlike way that I made the Obama site. We may support different people in the election, but we can all be friends! And to all of you who signed up . . . HOORAY! WELCOME!)
ALSO!
I couldn't finish off today's post without an Abba video. This one may be my new favorite. It's for Tiger, and it features Abba! Driving around in a car! Nothing else really happens, but they look fabulous, and I can't stop looking at Anni-Frid's headband! Proof, once again, that Abba can be the most amazing thing in the room without doing ANYTHING AT ALL. (If nothing else, watch at least the first twenty seconds to see "the dance move." Magnificent.)
I've just returned from Texas, literally. Thank you to all who expressed concern about my pretzel poisoning. I seem to have come out of it okay. I slept off the unpleasant aftertaste, had many wonderful encounters with librarians and other authors, ate a lot of delicious nachos, and got home in one piece!
Now . . . it' time for ASK MJ!
DEPARTMENT OF NO
anonymous said... Would you ever try sky-diving? What do you think about that?
Hold on. I have my list of “Things I Won’t Do” right here. Let me have a look . . .
#14 Jam hand into beehive. #15 Check out the source of "that weird noise" if accidentally stuck in horror movie. #16 Ask Naomi Campbell if I can borrow her phone.
Ah. Here it is. Number seventeen. Skydive.
Listen, I don't want to offend anyone here . . . but I have to wonder about anyone who tosses him or herself out of a doorway at 20,000 feet. I mean, you do see the flaw in that logic, right? Have you asked yourself, "What would Darwin do?"
It took us hundreds of years to solve the problem of flight. Flight is awesome! We have snacks and movies and everything! The only trick is STAYING ON THE PLANE. That's it! We didn't go to all the trouble of defying physics just so people could throw themselves out the door.
Some people will undoubtedly say, "But the adrenaline rush!" That adrenaline rush is there to KEEP us from killing ourselves. The adrenaline helps you run from the fire or the polar bear or the shark on a Segway or whatever is after you. I personally don't need this kind of buzz. I get enough excitement. I have JK busting into my house every other day.
anonymous said... Hey, my question is: Are you actually gonna answer ALL of these questions above?
Um . . .
DEPARTMENT OF ABBA
anonymous said... What would you say is your favorite ABBA song, at this moment at least? Cause I can never decide which one I like the best, and since you are an expert on all things ABBA I was hoping you might help me decide.
This question reminded me to check on my Abba museum countdown meter. Only 412 days to go until the BEST MUSEUM IN THE WORLD opens. I almost fainted when I read about the opening week activities. Just look at this!
Friday June 5, 2009 International ABBA Tribute Band Day. ABBA tribute bands from all over the world perform.
Saturday June 6, 2009 Sweden’s National Day – ABBA Style.
Sunday June 7, 2009 ABBA-rocks! Closing party with the next generation ABBA. Fireworks extravaganza.
OH. MY. GOD. An “Abba style” Sweden Day? An Abba party with fireworks? A whole day of Abba tribute bands? Who lives in Stockholm? Who wants to go with me?
What was the question again? I’m so woozy.
aella siofra said... Do you think Abba actually chose their own outfits? or were they merely the victims of a horrible conspiracy?
I don't understand this question. You seem to imply that there is something wrong with their outfits. All of the Abba outfits were carefully designed, and many will be at the museum!
Am I missing something? Is there a problem here?
ally said... Why do I always do well on Pre-AP American History test where the multiple choice always have ABBA in them?
ABBA always helps in times of crisis. And DID YOU KNOW that Frieda (the dark haired one) is a princess? Her full name and title is Her Serene Highness Princess Anni-Frid Reuss, Countess of Plauen.
DEPARTMENT OF FOOD
danica/diamond d said... Would you ever write a book based on the movie Footloose? Are you looking forward to the remake (with Zac Efron)?
Famous hamster-eater Zac Efron is going to star in a remake of Footloose? Why didn’t anyone tell me? What is THAT craft services table going to be like?
The Footloose Burger
crypt said... I have a question: What should I have for lunch? I don't have any bread, I do have burgers and fishfingers, but my grill doesn't work. I also have chocolate spread, mustard and eggs
Your choices seem limited to the last three items. I strongly support both the chocolate spread and mustard, but cannot get behind the eggs. I don’t like eggs. I wish I did, really . . . but I’ve never been able to eat them. Even the smell makes me hopelessly ill. Which is why I’m really wondering what joker added “I like eggs” to the list of my book titles on Wikipedia.
About your lunch . . . while I am perfectly content to eat mustard or chocolate spread right out of the jar, most people are not. And I’d offer you some of these cool chocolate cowboys that some Texas librarians gave me . . . but I got hungry when I got home and smashed them with a bowl and ate their heads.
ohholyhorcrux said... What are your feelings on hummus?
Basically, hummus is to me what hamsters are to Zac.
DEPARTMENT OF READING MATERIALS
itokro said... Is Suite Scarlett only out in America? A while ago I tried to find your books in Britain - I visited every bookstore in Cambridge before being told they'd have to order them specially and get them shipped over from the US. And yet yesterday, in Guildford, I saw a copy of 13 Little Blue Envelopes just sitting on the shelf in the bookshop. Does this mean you are published here after all? Or is it just the magical effects of proximity to the London office?
Welcome to the bane of my existence, itokro. Aside from The Bermudez Triangle (of which I think 4 copies were printed), I have no books out in the UK. From what I’ve been told, the UK hates YA and has denied admission to many of us!
So I have NO EXPLAINATION for why there was a 13 Little Blue Envelopes on a shelf in Guildford . . . except that maybe someone in Guildford figured out that I am in Guildford ALL THE TIME, ordered an American copy, and put it there. Guildford is, after all, the location of the “London” office. Maybe Oscar did it. Or JK. Did you see any food wrappers around it?
Until the books are released there, I guess I have to offer my special Reading Service, where I come to your house and read your mj book of choice to you.
Do you require MJ Reader Services?
Caillie said... i loved SUITE SCARLETT! remember me + Spencer= long lasting marrage only to be ended by one of the weasley twins, lol.
Spencer has been getting an awful lot of attention, even in these early days. I predict that he will be giving Keith Dobson a serious run for his money. But I can't let you marry him if you're just going to leave him. He'll get all depressed and he won't work anymore. Don't break my characters, bro.
hannah said... This is a very general question, but I was wondering who writes the blurbs for books?
Blurbs are usually quotes from other authors, but they can be from anyone, really. (Usually someone famous.) Like if Her Serene Highness Princess Anni-Frid Reuss, Countess of Plauen wanted to give me a quote . . . let's stop. I can't even think about that.
MJ my friend is currently extrimly mad @ u because 1 shes is not scarletts 11 2 you didn't answer her "very nice" email so @ school we call you The-auther-that-cannot-be-named and its slightly annoying (sorry shaylaluna if ur reading this) so I suggest u answer that I wasn't allowed to enter thanks to moi mother but I am begging you to sell the free alan rickman shirts also my friend and i are aginst borders because for my b day when you first said it was out(Im using small words cause I have issues spelling)she went to get it and they didn't have please repliy to this :^) karozoluvzu
I am always sorry to hear that I have failed one of you in some way, and I am certainly sorry to hear that I am “the author that cannot be named.” I’m like . . . Voldemort? Really? Let me see what I can do to address the problems.
First, sorry about your friend and Scarlett’s Eleven. This is the problem with running any kind of a contest. I knew it was going to be hard to pick eleven people. And I do my best to answer my e-mail . . . but things sometimes get a little out of control in MJ land. But I read every single one. Every. Single. One.
As for Borders not having the books out on the shelf when you went to get one, I am sorry about that, though I have no control over Borders. Borders is generally very nice when it comes to my books, and I like them a lot. I’ve heard from a few Borders people that they have opened the boxes and that Suite Scarlett is now out on the tables and shelves. So if you go back, it should be there!
I hope that you will now say my name again. I’m all stressed out now.
DEPARTMENT OF CONTESTS
Scholastic has told me that the INCREDIBLY AWESOME CONTEST that I’ve been telling you about for a while is scheduled to kick off on May 1st. I can confirm that the prize includes both NEW YORK CITY and ME. (You don’t get to keep either one . . . just to be clear.)
In the meantime . . . I have STUFF TO GIVE OUT! Starting NOW! In each of the next posts, I’ll be passing out some copies of Suite Scarlett and some awesome, limited edition, super-special SUITE SCARLETT SLEEP MASKS.
Today I am giving out one signed book and ten sleep masks.
TO WIN A SIGNED COPY OF THE BOOK: Leave a comment letting me know you don’t have a copy yet and you’d like one. I’ll draw a winner at random.
TO WIN A SLEEP MASK: Have you read Suite Scarlett? What did you think? Would you share your thoughts with everyone who hasn’t read the book yet? (Without dropping any spoilers, please. Spoilers will get deleted.) The first ten people to leave their mini-reviews in the comments win! (I realize that this means you have to have READ the book. Don’t worry . . . this is the only time that will be a factor!)
I am back at my desk, now that my jury service is over. Being on a murder trial is certainly interesting, and sometimes excruciating. It took us a few days of painful deliberation to come to a verdict. I was the jury foreman, and I had to stand up in the court and declare someone guilty of murder. Now that it is over, I can say I feel pretty good about it. I think we did the right thing, even though it wasn’t easy.
There were reporters there in our jury room when it was all over. So, I am telling you something, Law and Order . . . if you ever rip this one from the headlines, you had better let me be in the episode . . . preferably playing MYSELF. I will be watching.
In my absence, so many questions have come in! Let’s not waste another moment!
danica said... A-TEAM QUESTION! Is there an episode of the A-Team where B.A. DOESN'T have to be knocked out to fly in a plane/helicopter/whatever?
Yes. In “The Beast from the Belly of a Boeing” (real episode title, and no, I didn’t even have to look it up—I just knew it from memory), BA and Murdock pose as airplane mechanics to put something on a plane before it takes off. Unfortunately, the plane starts moving with them on board. BA, after a few moments of panic, passes out. But technically, he is not drugged—nor does he even look that scared later on as he fights hijackers at 42,000 feet. I suspect he was “on the jazz” at the time.
As much as I loved the A-Team, I will acknowledge that they were a bit cheap in some of their production values. You will notice in the very last scene of this episode, when the nosecone of the plane crashes through the window of the airport . . . a woman throws a baby in the air? That’s because it is taken directly from the movie AIRPLANE!
lindsay n said... What is your favorite ornament- and are you a pro-tinsel (as in "in favor of" vs "professional") Christmas tree decorator?
Tinsel is a very serious subject at the Johnson homestead in Philadelphia. My mother, for reasons we have never completely understood, is obsessed with the stuff. You have never seen anyone use as much tinsel as my mom. In fact, the tradition now is that I decorate the tree (using the careful and time-honored tradition of putting on the balls in a very specific order). Then I put on FOUR BOXES of tinsel, thinking that will be enough. And then she comes in with a cup of nog and says, “The tree looks nice, but don’t you think it looks a little bare?” And then she whips a bag containing SIX MORE BOXES of tinsel and puts them all on the tree.
It’s hard to believe that a tree can withstand the tinseling we give it. I’m surprised we haven’t snapped a few. As she’s encrusting the tree, my mom always reminisces about some old-timey tinsel that was really heavy and hung straighter than modern tinsel. She implies it was made of lead or something, which really doesn’t seem like the kind of thing you want to put on a tree—especially considering that my lawyer, C. Catso Fangola, eats as much tinsel as he can get his little kitty jaws on.
In the end, we have a blinding silver spike that sort of resembles the nose-cone of a rocket, which probably explains all the strange visitors we get on Christmas Eve seeking transport to their home planets—and also why I thought Santa was from space.
SANTA!
emily said... do you think red sequined converse (google them, i'm sorry i can't figure out how to link) are appropriately cheery? because i just got them, and i think they are, but i want ask you, master of all cheer. (keep in mind that they sparkle when light shines on them!)
shakes
shakes very hard
BUY THESE AT ONCE. THE IMAGE OF THEM DANCES IN MY MIND AND I CANNOT SLEEP. GET THEM IN EVERY COLOR, ESPECIALLY THE SILVER.
THE VERY DEFINITION OF CHEER
rebekah ruth said... When can we expect to see these cards?
The Holiday Signing Workshop Elves have just produced the first box of cards, so I will start signing them and sending them out early next week! I will continue to sign and send right up until the 20th of December (or until the cards run out). And to those of you who asked . . . NO! It is not too late to request cards! This is the perfect time!
ashley said... my mother and I are currently in a 'disagreement' (it's not a fight, there was no yelling) about some particularly obnoxious ornaments. They are large, strangely shaped, and metallic purple. I think they are AMAZING, but she tells me that purple is not a holiday color. I disagree. So, master of all cheer, my mother has agreed to let you settle the debate, because she also loves your books. Is purple a holiday color? Are these ornaments allowed to don our tree full of cheer?!
Thank you for including me in your cheerful debate! First, let me just say that it is a good thing you didn’t ask Daphne Unfeasible this question. Daphne is not rational on the subject of purple. Daphne is wearing purple shoes in her wedding to Rexroth Implausible, where we will be eating purple cupcakes and carrying purple flowers. If you asked Daphne, the entire tree should be purple, like something out of the Lorax.
As it happens, the MOST IMPORTANT ORNAMENTS at the Johnson Family homestead are large and purple. They are from the 1940s, and we keep them in a special box. But that is really not enough information to help you settle this most Cheerful of discussions. So let me give you some historical background.
Purple is the color of kings, and my personal favorite when it comes to kings is “Mad” King Ludwig II of Bavaria—largely because he is the man responsible for the construction of Neuschwanstein Castle, which is arguably the coolest castle in the world (and the basis of the Disneyland Magic Kingdom castle). The German room of my high school had a large wall-mural of Neuschwanstein, so in my memory of high school, I visited this castle EVERY DAY.
As it happens, I kept all my foreign language textbooks from high school. (I didn’t steal them. We had to buy them.) My textbooks are very, very hilarious because, for whatever reason, we used a German edition created in 1974, and a French edition from 1984. Even taking into account that I went to high school several years ago, the books were still outrageously outdated, and yet we were made to memorize everything in them as facts. For example, I took a test with questions drawn from the following passage on French culture:
Young women enjoy wearing bib overalls (salopettes). Every girl carries a purse (sac), which is usually tiny with a long shoulder strap crossing the body. Currently, some girls wear ankle socks with high-heeled shoes.
I remember some brave soul in my class trying to explain to sister that this was not exactly accurate, and sister saying, “It is IN THE BOOK.” Some people have trouble understanding the fact that you kind of need to think about cultural and historical context before you go being all literal and following every word of something . . . because if you don’t, you are liable to make some egregious mistakes.*
Anyway, I want to show you the difference between the very first lesson of French I and the very first lesson of German I.
FRENCH I, first page text of Perspectives Françaises:
CHRISTINE: Bonjour, Marie! MARIE: Bonjour, Christine! Comment vas-tu? CHRISTINE: Je vais bien, merci. Et toi? MARIE: Comme-ci, comme ça. CHRISTINE: Que fais-tu maintenant? MARIE: J’étudie les math. Je passé l’examen dans dix minutes. CHRISTINE: Bonne chance! Ou vas-tu après l’examen? MARIE: Je vais a la patisserie. J’ai faim! CHRISTINE: Moi, aussi. Allons a la patisserie ensemble! MARIE: D’accord. A bientot, Christine. CHRISTINE: Au revoir, Marie.**
Translation:
CHRISTINE: Hello, Marie! MARIE: Hello, Christine! How are you? CHRISTINE: I’m fine, thanks. And you. MARIE: So-so. CHRISTINE: What are you doing? MARIE: I’m studying math. I take the test in ten minutes. CHRISTINE: Good luck! What are you doing after the test? MARIE: I’m going to the pastry shop. I’m hungry! CHRISTINE: Me, too. Let’s go to the pastry shop together! MARIE: Okay. See you soon, Christine. CHRISTINE: Good-bye, Marie.
Now, I think you will agree with me when I say that that is PRETTY BORING. The only part of that that I was even remotely interested in was this pastry shop they all went running to after math tests. What’s THAT about? The best I ever got after a math test was a prayer card and a lecture about my slouching socks.
The trouble was, I was used to better. Our German textbook was just so very excellent, Perspectives Françaises never had a chance. First of all, it was loaded with pictures from 1974, so everyone looked like Abba!
Everyone in my book looked like this. Now those are some bib overalls!
Aside from the obviously superior photos, my German book totally rocked when it came to conversations and vocabulary. No “Good morning, I am going dans le pastry shop” for us! No way! Here is the first piece of German text I ever had to read:
Du kennst mich nicht Ich heiße Gisela und wohne in Deutschland Ich finde Deutschland schon Ich habe eine nette Familie, aber oft fuhle ich mich ganz allein Und du?
Gehst du auch ab und zu lieber allein durch die Straßen? Fuhlst du dich manchmal verlassen, auch wenn viele Leute da sind? Traumst du manchmal? Schaust du in den Spiegel und fragst: ‘Wer bin ich und was wird aus mir?’
Aber es ist nicht immer so! Erika kommt oft zu mir. Wir gehen dann in mein Zimmer und sprechen lange und lachen laut miteinander. Oder wir weinen zusammen—und finden die Welt trauig und schon, fremd und freundlich. Und du?
Translation:
You don’t know me. My name is Gisela, and I live in Germany. I find Germany beautiful. I have a nice family, but often I feel quite alone. And you?
Do you too prefer to walk alone through the streets now and then? Do you feel sometimes forsaken, even when many people are there? Do you dream sometimes? Do you look in the mirror and ask, “Who am I, and what will become of me?”
But it’s not always this way. Erika often comes over, then we go to my room and talk a long time and laugh loudly with one another, Or we cry together—and find the world sad and beautiful, foreign and friendly. And you?
No vapid snacking here! Marie and Christine aren’t in the same universe as Gisela. I liked her insane trawling through the streets, mirror-talking, and group sobbing. Bonus: one of the first ten German words I ever learned was FORSAKEN.
This is why I became president of the German club. German is awesome.
Anyway, Ashley, I hope this clears everything up for you!
I hope those purple balls hang proudly from the branches of your tree! And if you want, you can be like my mom and just cover them up with tinsel! Everyone wins!
Thanks to Libba Bray (who gave out the link), I can offer you the chance to see my new publicity photo in the form of either Elf me or Scrooge me. You're welcome!
NOTE:
I understand that Blogger has been giving some of you trouble leaving comments. I am sorry for this! You can also send your questions via e-mail if that is easier! Your questions are the lifeblood of my very existence!
* It is possible that I am talking about more than just language textbooks, but I leave it to you to draw your own conclusions!
** Note to French and German readers: I love both of your languages, so please do not be offended by the lack of some accents and umlauts. I tried to make them appear, but the Gods of Word and Blogger colluded against me. If you have accents and umlauts I can borrow, I would be most appreciative.
Continuing my long tradition of bringing you things you didn’t ask for, today I feel it is necessary to take you through some history of what many people call the greatest group in the history of pop, the Swedish foursome that is and was Abba.
What led me to this? Mostly, my new book, which takes place in New York and has shades of disco grandeur, so of course I had to listen to lots of lots of wonderful Abba for inspiration. As a tiny mj, I spent many hours dancing around my room to “Dancing Queen” and “Take a Chance on Me.” And now, as a fully-grown mj, I still do. I eagerly await the opening of the Abba museum in Sweden. I am so going to that.
The kings and queens of the 70s from left to right: Benny, Anna-Frid, Anna, and Bjorn. Benny and Anna-Frid were married, as were Anna and Bjorn.
Just look how happy they are. Compare this natural joy with a picture of The Cure trying to smile and see the difference. You can’t fake joy like that.
We are really very happy.
At the height of their powers, Abba was constantly packed up and shipped around the planet. This was before the internet, back when you actually had to go to places to make any kind of an impact. You get the feeling that Abba were shoved in front of the camera as quickly as humanly possible and made to DO SOMETHING. This has resulted in a massive catalog of utterly fantastic television appearances from around the world. There is just nothing like this on television today.
As a service to you, I’ve trolled Youtube and brought five of these performances here, analyzed them, and listed them in order of decreasing sanity and coherence. Some may call this effort of mine procrastination, but I call it public service. I do it for you. This is a fantastic waste of fifteen minutes. You’re welcome.
Tiger, 1976, Polish television
To be fair, Benny and Bjorn aren’t native English speakers, so you almost feel bad questioning the purpose behind lyrics like:
The city is a nightmare, a horrible dream Some of us will dream it forever. Turn around the corner and try not to scream It’s me! I am behind you, I always find you, I am the tiger. And if I meet you, what if I eat you? I am the tiger!
The question of relevance evaporates in the face of this video, in which Abba’s on the road travails are made very literal. It appears that they have been packed in a giant box full of those packing air cushions, and are fighting their way out to perform. Every time they seem to get free, the packing cushions attack. It’s kind of heartbreaking to watch them struggle.
You would think if they were the scary tigers they are claiming to be, this would not be a problem. Tigers have claws and teeth and can easily pop air bags. And yet they wrestle for three mesmerizing minutes. Do they ever stop singing? Not for a heartbeat! They are total pros. Justin Timberlake may have put his you-know-what in a box, but he never had to deal with anything like this.
Ring, Ring, 1973, a yard in Sweden
Hey, guys! I have an idea. Let’s stand Abba out in the backyard of my house and have them sing a song about getting a call. I have some big wicker chairs out there, and two old-timey telephones that aren’t connected to anything. It’s pretty sunny out, so their shiny tin foil clothing may be sort of uncomfortable, baking them like potatoes and causing them to squint a lot. It may even make them start lip-synching all the wrong words. But I don’t think that should stop us. We’ve come up with this plan, and I think we should roll with it.
And you know what would be great? Let’s have the guys sneak out of the foliage and creep up behind the girls. And can we make sure they’re leering, and generally as shady-looking as possible? And can we just have them linger in the back, like stalkers about to graduate to the next level?
We can? Oh, great.
Honey Honey, 1973, unknown country (possibly Transylvania)
Why is Count Dracula hosting this show? And why is he holding a huge Napoleon hat?
I guess we can’t even answer those questions, not when these outfits give us so much to think about. They show a certain lack of restraint, a bit of a lack of thematic focus. I think even Elton John would have called them “a little flamboyant.”
Bjorn has come to the party dressed as a superhero. He’s Captain Spiky Guitar! He has a cape and silver arm bands! Maybe he developed this superhero persona in response to the time that they were trapped with all those air bags.
Anna is a genie. Or a pirate. Or just someone in little red shorts and silver boots who is also covered from head to thigh in silver circles. I don’t think there is a word for that, except maybe for hotttt. Note the nice little wolf call that comes out of the audience when she is introduced.
Anni-Frid is some kind of . . . space ho? It’s unclear. She’s definitely Star Trek hotttt.
Benny is wearing the roller skating jacket I wanted when I was eight, except I wanted it in pink, and I would have requested that the massive feather boa be removed. Silver platform boots? Oh, yes please!
Now, the dancing. We need to discuss. Those walking trees in the Lord of the Rings shook it more than this. Anni-Frid is the only one who appears to have any va-va-voom. This junior high-style, edge of the gym floor, slight overbite, swaying dance does not cut the mustard. If you’re going to put on that much shiny stuff, I think you should be wielding a flamethrower as you skate around an ice disco. Anything less is a disappointment.
But let’s give Abba some credit here. They are being forced to wear nine-inch platforms that probably legally qualify as scaffolding. Next time, they should just have stuck them on stilts, or maybe up in space, and been done with it.
Let’s not mention the obvious fade out at the end. Just let them escape. Waterloo, 1974, Spanish television
If you have ever been diagnosed with any kind of borderline psychiatric condition, you may not want to watch this. This video seems designed to cause a psychic break and destroy your mind to a happy disco beat.
We see here a reappearance of the Napoleon hats . . . but that makes sense. The name Waterloo refers to the famous battle at which Napoleon was defeated. But those dancing hats that start off the video are just plain creepy. The spiky guitar is back. However, the cape is gone, and now Bjorn is wearing the Hulk’s pants.
Then the confusion comes. Who’s on the stripey-stripey piano? Is it Bjorn? No, it’s Anni-Frid! No, it’s Bjorn! It’s Anni-Frid! No, it’s neither! They’re all under one of those creepy hat illustrations! Anni-Frid comes out of Napoleon’s chest! This freaks Napoleon out, but then, HE LIKES IT.
Then the hats march in! Then come the coordinated disco dancers in vaguely Germanic pastoral outfits! Oh, the hats! The dancers! The hats! The dancers! Bjorn, beat them off with your spiky guitar!
And all the while, Benny smiles creepily.
The return of Ring, Ring, same show
Okay. We admit it. In the past, mistakes were made. Like the first time when we recorded this song in a yard, and Bjorn and Benny ended up looking like serial killer stalkers, and Anna and Anni-Frid got sunburn and had to stay inside for a week. We Swedes are very pale and should be more careful. We live many months in darkness, you know, and sometimes we get overexcited by the sunlight, like those kids in “All Summer in a Day.” Do you know that story? Anyway . . .
About that Waterloo performance on this show that caused so many of you to end up on prescription antipsychotics . . . we are really very, very sorry. We’ve fired the whole crew and have gotten this AV club from the local high school to do all the tech work on this performance, which we promise will not be scary or give anyone skin cancer.
Ready? Okay. Here we go . . .
I was sitting by the phone . . . I was waiting all alone . . .
LIGHTS, guys! Turn on the lights! No, not just for the backdrop. For us.
Okay. Thanks. A bumpy start, but still, this performance is going a lot better already, right? Wait . . . who is messing with the pointy-pointy camera effect? Would you stop that? Don’t you think between that and the disturbing stripes and lines we’ve got going on behind us that we might give someone a seizure? Oh, this isn’t going as we had hoped. Just bring the dancers back in.
Hold on. What are they wearing? Are their outfits really covered in SWIRLY EYES? And why the jumping? And the mirrors? And the shattered lens . . . is that blood coming out of it?
BRING THOSE AV KIDS BACK IN!
Oh, I can feel it coming. My limbs are twitching. Make it stop! I want my mommy! I AM NAPOLEAN!
