I had a dream last week. I was married (complete shock) and sat up in bed with the wife, who had gotten off of a long shift at her job and wanted to relax. I couldn't do anything else besides raving about something either idiotic or self-centered, so I finally broke down and said it.
"Honey, I think my one bucket list item I want to cross off is to spend a week with a pop star."
Her eyes nearly jumped from her head, the open thought of me cheating with a singer piqued her interest. "You're kidding me, who?"
Afraid to answer, I sheepishly fumble the words. "Rih-Rihanna."
She turned over and began jokingly singing "I don't want to be a murderer..." hinting at my proposed death for wanting a week with Rihanna on a plane. Sorry, explaining to your dream wife that you're gonna be with your journalist pals, a few crazed fans, label reps, their ilk AND Rihanna doesn't work in a dream.
You go for the jugular and hope she doesn't turn into post-CB Rihanna when you guys divorce.
The Rihanna Plane, or Flight 777, is probably the biggest story in music right now, because it has taken a bunch of music journos, fans and others on a week-long promo tour behind the singer's new album Unapologetic and put them in a bubble. Basically it's asking them to create their own story and, to an extent, not kill each other in the process. It has breathed life into the concept of complete anarchy via social media, and has all the makings of an Airplane spoof mixed in with the soundtrack of a teen comedy.
In other words, it's pretty damn brilliant.
Yes, it's quite exhausting, living a whirlwind lifestyle following a pop star and her way of being better than most normal humans, but its pretty much Fantasy Island without Tattoo rolling around -- although you have streaking Australians, so there's that.
Many people from the outside are tossing shots at those on the plane, stating they're entitled and shouldn't be complaining when the pains they're sharing are quite universal -- they've been given access to a pop singer for a week, and instead they've had more access to the stewardesses and flight crews. In other words, they could have sat inside of an album-release party (those awkward, all-smiles events) and received less hostile treatment.
Had we not been dealing with Air Rih Rih, this possibly could have worked with The Rolling Stones or The Beatles, and by then the stories would usually revolve around some writer attempting to out-drug Keith Richards and failing miserably. He would have put up a valiant effort, I'm sure.
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Here's the most logical conclusion: The Rihanna Plane will be turned into a script for a movie in a few years. I pray to God it gets an original title and not made into Almost Famous 2. Time to start casting before we hear a story about somebody cannibalizing someone for the sake of a headline.