Whitney Houston is the GOAT. I don’t care how many songs Beyonce has. Whitney is the voice. That said, I love Bey too and she’s one of the best performers of our time. Undisputed.
And a big thumbs up to Whitney for her skill and success in performing material outside of her usual R&B realm. When she appeared as the fairy godmother in the Brandy version of Cinderella, every little girl in the audience -- and more than a few adults -- yearned to have somebody like Whitney in their corner and ready to help them make their dreams come true. If Beyonce suddenly materialized in Cinderella's home, the little girl would probably have destroyed her party dress even more before telling Beyonce to never mind, she'd prefer to stay home after all, and Beyonce would probably have smirked and said good at least you're starting to learn your proper place, with Blue smirking in the background as one of the evil stepsisters. Even in The Preacher's Wife, Beyonce would have imperially called her husband out for not accepting the megachurch pastor's offer to build him a gold-plated pulpit after he finished destroying the recreation hall used by the poor kids in the parish -- "most of those kids just embarrass themselves by the way they play basketball anyway". And while neither women were attached to that regrettably forgotten version of Pollyanna featuring Rudy from The Cosby show as the perennially cheerful and optimistic little girl, I suspect Beyonce would have slapped Polly and told her to stop her nonsense when inspiring others by playing the Glad Game, telling her she's going to be glad when she finally shuts up, while Whitney would have celebrated and shown us all how blessed we would be to sit and simply listen to this story of a child, not the story of some regal Queen or powerful agency head, but the simple, grace-filled story of a child making her way in a world that too often simply sought to silence her voice. So yes, if anybody is near the concession stand where Beyonce and Blue are selling matching mother-daughter versions of gold encrusted team jerseys, somebody please see if they are selling more modest and serviceable hoodies in a simple and decidedly unglamorous cotton twill reading "Team Whitney". That's the souvenir that I will proudly wearwhen I get home to my humble neighborhood and am again surrounded by good humble people who are my neighbors, waiting in the rain at the bus stop while Beyonce's entourage passes in their fleet of stretch, customized million-dollar limos. Sometimes who you are is determined by the company you keep, and I will always keep Whitney as a beloved part of the company I keep.
Are we actually having this conversation now that all of us have seen what a remarkably gifted artist Beyonce has created by the way she shows such obvious love and pride for Blue and her amazing abilities? Seriously people go look at footage from the current tour and you tell me if there was ever a twelve-year-old girl who knew how to jump around and shake like she was having an epileptic fit - even while making that little heart shape with her fingers and throwing ironically shady looks. I can't even remember the name of Whitney Houston's daughter, or if she even had one
I am not going to say anything in reply, but I am certainly going to swivel and step 1 2 3 into a smirking look while I pull the zipper on my tracksuit top and reveal the New York Jersey underneath it, because as Beyonce has shown us through her daughter, that's all I need to do to be taken seriously and regarded as a truly artistic voice worth reckoning with. And to all of you haters who think otherwise, why don't you stage a multimillion-dollar worldwide tour and put your daughter on display and see if you feel otherwise.
