Courtney Love, everyone’s nightmare wife, is turning 50 today, the same day I hear the news that Ryan Gosling, everyone’s perfect boyfriend*, will have a child with Eva Mendes. How God could fill my head with so much conflicting news in one day… Courtney, still thinking she can reclaim her title of Rock Queen/Queen Bitch, perennially down for the count, downed by drugs, drowned by alcohol, downed by narcissism and madness- forced to watch stupider, more reasonable women take the crown she wore on “Live Through This”.
Every year a rumored triumphant return, every year a let down. Meanwhile Ryan has found a women worthy of love and impregnation, a woman who will not be smoking, shooting up, and giving foul mouthed interviews to Rolling Stone and Vanity Fair while she has a child In Utero. No, an actress of some talent, Eva will be looking more and more like a blow-up Sophia Loren until her waist disappears and she has to wear sensible flats while Ryan adorably accompanies her to Lamaze class.
As a former punk fighting to age without displaying too much dignity, I root for Courtney every time she dusts herself off. As a proud grandmother, myself, I am happy there will be one more Love child and one less Son of Anarchy.
Now all the women sing along with us! One more…
And how ’bout an round of applause for our Gorgeous Mary…over there. Behind the David Lynchian red velvet curtain.