May This Wildflower Wilt

Well, it happened. My personal levee has been breached. Someone has to do something. It's way out of hand now. This whole deal has reached a level even I didn't think was possible. What am I talking about, you ask?

The situation with Sheryl Crow, that's what.

What has become of this singer/songwriter I once loved so much? Well, I'll tell you what. Just the other day I discovered that Sheryl was calling for a "limitation" to "be put on how many squares of toilet paper can be used in one sitting". Yes, you read that right. I am not making it up. As if that's not bad enough (and, believe me, it is) later that same day I learned that not only was she calling for a limit on loo paper but that she also recently sparred with the the infamous Karl Rove over global warming.

Let's get something straight, Sheryl Crow should not be hanging out in the same place as Karl Rove.

Look, I have no problem with Sheryl taking a stand against global warming but does she have to do it at a black tie dinner in Washington D.C.? What's next, Lucinda Williams discussing the war in Iraq with Dick Cheney on the veranda while sipping chablis?

What happened to the Sheryl I loved? What happened to the Sheryl who liked "a good beer buzz early in the morning"? What happened to the Sheryl on the back of her Globe Sessions album wearing all black and drenched in black mascara?

Is this me being selfish? Of course, it is. We all want different things from different people and this Revlon-hawking, happy-go-lucky Sheryl just doesn't work for me. I vividly recall listening to "Crash and Burn" - the final track on her 3rd album - and thinking that this dark, depressing, complex piece of music was the best thing she had ever recorded and that it promised an even deeper, better album the next time around.

Instead she started dating Lance Armstrong and made "Soak Up the Sun" which contained lyrics like the following:

I feel like cherry wine
Like Valentines
Like a Spring is coming

What the f--- is that supposed to be????? The woman who once proclaimed "God, I feel like hell tonight" now feels like cherry wine?????

I was so sure her breakup with Lance Armstrong would cause her to return to the Sheryl of old. I was positive she would seclude herself in a California seashore motel with nothing but her guitar, a notebook, and a bottle of whiskey.

Instead she's chilling in the same places as Karl Rove. I mean, can you even imagine the current Sheryl Crow "living off coffee and nicotine"? At this point she probably lives off an 8 hour gym regimen, herbal tea and water-packed tuna.

This is why I'm making a plea to you, my dear and loyal readers. We need to piss off Sheryl. We need to make her mad. We need her to see the darkness. Therefore use as much loo paper as you possibly can and then brag about it in public. (Example: "My oh my did I haphazardly waste a gaggle of loo paper this morning.") Talk openly of how little global warming concerns you (remember, it's all an act). Maybe this will get her upset. Maybe this will make her get out the black mascara. Maybe this will make her grab a guitar and a case of Falstaff beer.

Maybe this will get her to write some good music again.