Speaking of wanting to like something: 'N Sync then performed an a capella tribute to 2003 Legend Award winners the Bee Gees, the emotional context of which greatly heightened by brother Maurice's recent untimely and unexpected death. 'N Sync tried very hard and sang with something approaching reverence, but their pop-R&B style was ill-suited to the brothers Gibb's sparkling, shimmering anglo-Australian harmonies. The sad truth is that 'N Sync just isn't that good.

There wasn't a dry eye in the house when Maurice's timid, grateful son came up to accept the award in his father's stead, with widow and daughter weeping in the front row. The world now knows - if it didn't before - that this man is loved and missed terribly by those who knew him best.

By then I was in bed, watching the rest of the show on a tiny TV on the other side of the room, drifting in and out of consciousness. I thought I saw Aretha Franklin and her twin inside a single outfit, connected at the hip to Bonnie Raitt, who said something about "building peace." Well, yeah, after the war, honey.

I was really almost gone to the Land of Nod when all of a sudden I heard what sounded like the Clash..... THE CLASH? I sat up and snapped to attention: it was Elvis Costello, Bruce Springsteen, Dave Grohl, and Little Steven, lined up, armed with guitars, tearing through "London Calling" with all their collected might, sucking in all the air their lungs could hold to spit out the enigmatic words of impending disaster in glorious tribute to the Clash, the late Joe Strummer, and themselves. It was magic, then I fell asleep and dreamed beautiful rock 'n' roll dreams where no one dies or grows old and the energy never fades....

UPDATE
My own sweet rock 'n' roll redhead covers a lot of Grammy ground I somehow missed.