Lana Del Rey... Banana Del Rey

(Before I share my review and tale of woe and whoa!, let me mention this is a double vinyl record, because that is how Lana Del Rolls...)

My story starts simply: like this. I had a girlfriend once and, as one does, I loved her too much. 

I had asked her to marry me twice, and, after the second time, she said yes. She said she wanted to make sure I meant it.  She was my guiding light, my life force, my motorcycle helmet. Whenever I needed help, even with my college homework -- I majored in Gender Studies with a minor in Cosmetology-- she would always drop what she was doing to help me. I was her devoted cocker spaniel. I had never even thought about being with other women.  But all of that changed when I found the double vinyl.  

I never thought of myself as a shallow person. I was a young man who was passionate and driven, but never shallow, so when this happened, I knew it was for real. I was doing my Sunday shopping at the local Farmers' Market, strategically located between the Evangelical Korean Church and the Foxy Lady Gentlemen’s Club, so not many regular people were there. But I always enjoyed the way the smell of kimchee mixed with the cannabis the dancers smoked.

As I was looking at the wide array of fresh fruit and large eggplants lined up like emojis, something caught my eye. I turned my head and there it was, a vinyl record booth, and in front, Lust for Life by Lana Del Ray. I’m not much of a vinyl sort of person; I got my music like any respectable person would, illegally downloading it. But I was instantly drawn to the simple, yet elegant design ,with the most beautiful girl I had ever seen on it. She was all I could see. So beautiful, in fact, I never saw the name of the album or the artist. I just wanted to make out with this album cover. I was just about to grab it, when a couple of teenage girls snatched it right from under me. 

When I returned to my mom’s basement - where my fiancee demanded I live until our wedding day - I frantically searched on my stepbrother’s iPhone 3 for the elusive artist. Ten minutes of searching “cute girl with flowers in hair album” and “smiling girl in front of car album” into Bing, I finally found what I was looking for. There she was, smiling in front of a dirty green truck with daisies in her hair. LANA DEL REY! I was nervous even looking at her; I had never thought of cheating on someone before. So I deleted my stepbrother’s search history and made sure to never talk about Lana Del Ray or her music no matter what, or think about her touching my third nipple.

But of course, I was constantly thinking about her. I tried going cold turkey like my Uncle Steve did when he quit drinking and took up backgammon, but I hated backgammon. 

I emailed her from a secret account, but she never replied. Not even a form letter like the President sends. I went to my girlfriend’s apartment and after giving her a pedicure, I asked her if she wanted to Netflix and Chill. She said yes to Netflix but no to chill. While the credits of a benign stand up comedian special rolled - an idea hit me! What if I could turn my girlfriend into Lana Del Ray... without asking her, without her knowing?  After all, I was minoring in Cosmetology! I could do this! 

I convinced her she had a great singing voice and enrolled her in music lessons. Under the auspices of a project for Cosmetology class, I slowly altered her appearance by having her wear different clothing and growing out her hair. The plan was working!

Apparently, my secret plans were not as secret as I thought. I was going in for a routine haircut at the University's Hair Stylist Department, and like many people do, I took too many Xanax and started over-sharing with the student hairdresser.  Little did I know, but she knew my girlfriend from the year they worked on the Scientology Yacht. But she did not tell me.  Instead,  she decided to set in motion one of the most devious plans I have ever seen. 

It started with her making my hair blonde. I was never against dyeing my hair - I had it blue and red and chartreuse over the years. Next she wanted me to wear a bandana around my head, a little strange, but nothing out of the ordinary with us. I mean, we were the kind of people to go all out on Halloween. Then she asked me to take singing lessons with her. I loved singing, so didn't think anything of it. I was part of the local Church of Scientology Choir as a child. I wasn't a member of the Hubbard cult, but they were one of our small city's biggest employers, so a lot of us locals worked for them. It was either Scientology or the state prison.   

Then she asked me to wear leather pants. I have sensitive skin, due to my father being half-albino, and the chafing was horrendous, but I got through it, anything for her, because she was becoming more and more like my beloved Lana.  I knew that when we finally had sex, it would be like I was making love to that album cover!

After about a month of blonde hair and leather pants, she decided we would to go to a karaoke bar for fun. When I got onto the stage, people at the bar began chanting “Working for the weekend! Working for the weekend!” I was totally confused.  Then I looked at myself, and the video feed that was to go with the song she chose, and she had made me into Mike Reno! Lead singer of Loverboy! To me, someone that hates early 80's Canadian Rock, this was a fate worst than death!

I ran off from the stage and screamed at my girlfriend! How dare she make me into the lead singer of Loverboy?!  She screamed that she didn’t like that I was tricking her into becoming Lana Del Ray. She broke up with me on the spot, but didn't leave until she sang the title track off this album. I was the saddest and horniest I have been.

I don't think I can love again. Maybe I can. Who knows? I dropped out of college to pursue the only passion I have left: Lana Del Rey. No. I am not a stalker.  I am working hard to get on RuPaul's Drag Race - with my character -  Banana Del Rey - I am cross between Josephine Baker and my guiding light, Lana.   

Using the rating scale that can seem, when you are high enough, that Jeff Bezos is maniacally laughing at you, I give this album 2 out of 5 Bezos, because I am now happy with the two parts of me!