TAZ'S MARIAH CAREY!

Mariah Carey had sold more than 10 million records before she ever stepped onto a live concert stage. Bypassing the usual live tours, Carey remained strictly a studio artist through her first four hit releases. She was an easy target for critics when she finally played her first regular concert three weeks ago in Miami, but Carey, 24, bounced back to earn strong notices in Boston for her next show. Tonight, Universal Amphitheatre will be the site of date No. 4 for Carey, who grew up in New York and developed her remarkable, multi-octave range under the guidance of her opera-singing mother. Carey set out on her singing career right after high school, getting her break when she gave a demo tape to Columbia Records executive Tommy Mottola. Today, Mottola is Carey's husband, and the president and chief operating officer of Columbia's parent company, Sony Music Entertainment Inc. It's a glamorous union, but it has its controversial side--one of the matters Carey addressed in a phone interview from the couple's farm in Upstate New York. The reports were that Miami was terrible and Boston was great. Were the concerts really that different? Well, first of all, Miami was my first show. I learn every time I get up there, and I don't think that the reviews were fair in terms of that. I know--it's like, "Well, why should we give her a break? She's up there, she better be able to do this." And I understand that and I respect that. But I think that I sang well in Miami and that I did the best show that I could. I learned a lot from doing that performance, and we all got a lot better. I definitely think that the show in Boston was miles ahead of that show. How do you react to criticism? When I read the reviews in Miami I got really mad and I said, "A lot of these things are constructive criticism, and a lot of them are just cruel and mean, so I'm just gonna go out there and give it everything I have." If it's constructive, I take it in and I try to change what they're saying, if I agree with it. If it's just out and out being cruel... then I just try to turn the other cheek and I try not to obsess about it. It's not easy that everything you do, everybody has to come in and critique it and give their opinion. Sometimes it does help me and sometimes it hurts me as a person. That's life. I have feelings. Who's your idea of a good singer? I have an older brother and sister who are 9, 10 years older than me, and they were listening to Stevie Wonder, Aretha Franklin, Gladys Knight. So that really influenced me from the time I was 4 years old. R&B, and Minnie Riperton, some others. Then I got into gospel music as I got older... I still listen to older music a lot more than new singers. I listen to whatever's on the radio, but when I want to listen to something that moves me I put on a Stevie Wonder record. What makes a good singer? Just singing from your heart, putting everything inside of you onto the record. You don't have to be doing vocal acrobatics or singing all over the scale to have soul. With your range and technique, is it hard not to oversing? I'm still experimenting with my voice. Every day I do different things with it, and if I feel it's appropriate I do it on the record. Sometimes when you're in the middle of a song and you're just having a great time, there's nowhere else to go but up. And so I do it. Maybe sometimes I'll look back and say, "Well, OK, maybe I did oversing on that part a little bit," but I was having fun and I did it. Have you been hurt by some of the media coverage? That is the worst thing about this, being up there and being so open for criticism and speculation and for people's opinions. You talk to people and they seem really nice and then you read what they write and it's very disillusioning. You have to deal with how people let you down in terms of that. Because I think I'm basically a nice person and I think I'm a real person, and a lot of people aren't, and you see that in this business. Your marriage has been a source of controversy, because of the perception that you would get special treatment by the label in terms of promotion, etc. First of all, we are not legally allowed to deal with contracts and things like that with each other, so that doesn't happen. No. 2, it works against me in a lot of ways, because the company is so cautious about doing anything for me that could be perceived as special treatment that they bend over backward not to. So sometimes I deserve things that other artists would get after selling as many records, and I don't get them because of that. I have to deal with everybody saying, "Oh, well she gets special treatment because of Tommy." That's stupid... Like I would never have gotten a record deal or I wouldn't have been successful. I don't care who you are, you can't make a person go into a store and buy an album. They go out and buy the album if they like the record. All the money and power in the world cannot give you a hit record in today's world. Have any other acts on the label said anything to you about this issue, supportive or negative? I really don't discuss it with other people. With all this happening so quickly in your life, how do you stay grounded? Hmm. I don't know, but I do. I feel like it's almost made me a nicer person. Because before this I was just so anxious--"When is this gonna happen for me?" My whole life I've been going for this goal, since I was 4 years old. I didn't have a lot of things growing up, and when I was struggling. I remember that when I look around and see the things I have now, and I remember not having them. That is one thing that keeps me grounded. I'm definitely the same person I was. I never lose me, I never lose the real person. (bron: Los Angeles Times, 23 november 1993) CONCERT REVIEW The only thing Mariah Carey had more of than hits on Tuesday at the Universal Amphitheatre was problems. During the bumpy, 90-minute concert, Carey displayed signs of inexperience in everything from her clumsy dance steps to her awkward manner. You could count on nervous giggles after almost every word between songs and melodramatic gestures with every lyric. Every time she sang the word you, she pointed to the audience. When she sang heart, she thumped her chest. But what should we have expected from a 24-year-old singer who is trying to start her performance career amid the coldness and high expectations of arenas and amphitheaters rather than in the intimacy of clubs, a singer's normal training ground? So her fourth stop on her first U.S. tour was a disaster, right? That's the irony. After months of media doubts about whether Carey, who has sold more than 10 million records over the last three years without ever touring, could hold her own on stage, the young New Yorker proved more appealing on stage Tuesday than she has the last three years on record. Carey's imperfections, in fact, contributed to making her more human and winning on stage than on record, where she tries to achieve such perfection with her exquisite vocal range and command that the tracks frequently seem sterile. If she is able at the end of this six-city tour to look honestly at her problem areas, she has a chance to become far more engaging a performer than her pop rival Whitney Houston, who after considerable touring remains unbearably stiff. The first thing she needs to do in thinking about future concerts is forget that she has sold 10 million records. This show--with the lavish, cityscape stage design and its small army of seven musicians, five dancers and five back-up singers--was far too grand. The challenge for Carey, whose music combines elements of gospel and soul, is to connect with audiences, not be surrounded by so many competing visual and musical elements that you often have trouble even locating her on stage. The best way to develop those performance skills would be schedule some club or small-theater shows before launching another full-scale arena tour. Eager to prove that her vocal power isn't simply a studio trick, Carey opened with hits that showed off those considerable skills. And she did showcase everything from husky dips to glistening peaks that would endanger any crystal glass. But it wasn't until "Without You", about 20 minutes into the set, that Carey moved from vocal demonstrations to vocal artistry, injecting the old Badfinger torch ballad with a genuine sense of urgency and passion. As she went back to her own songs, Carey seemed to carry over that freer vocal expression, eliminating some of the embroidery that sometimes undercuts the warmth of the records. Those Carey tunes (she writes most of the lyrics and some of the music), however, pose another problem. At this point in her career, she is stronger as a singer than as a writer. Her lyrics tend to speak about heartache and longing in ways that are too commonplace. As such, they fail to give her enough character and color musically to sustain a 90-minute set. After the first 45 minutes, the material tended to blur, leaving her somewhat anonymous on stage. By contrast, two other outside songs--including her hit version of the Jackson 5's "I'll Be There"--brought out the best in her singing and personality. Though it's hard to divide one's artistic impulses, Carey needs to look at her own material more critically, even if that means turning more frequently to other people's songs. This tour should do much to give Carey (who stars in an NBC-TV special tonight at 10) greater credibility in pop, but it's how she adjusts to its lessons--and problems--that will tell us how serious she is about her artistry, rather than simply her stardom. (bron: Los Angeles Times, 25 november 1993) VENTURING OUTSIDE THE STUDIO, MARIAH CAREY PROVES HER METTLE Mariah Carey had everything to prove when she performed on Friday night at Madison Square Garden. Although she has sold millions of albums since her first one appeared in 1990, her public performances were scarce, confined mostly to television appearances. Instead of working her way up the live circuit, she is starting at the top, touring arenas. With her triumphant New York concert, she's going to make it much harder to convince fledgling singers that they need to pay dues. If Ms. Carey was nervous, it didn't show. Smiling and strutting across the stage, moving easily to the music without obvious choreography, she combined the assurance of an arena-scale pop performer with the casualness of a suburban girl-next-door. Chatting with an audience that was proud to claim her as Long Island native, she announced that profits from her current single, "Hero," would be donated to the families of victims of last week's rampage on the Long Island Rail Road. Ms. Carey's career -- guided by her husband, Tommy Mottola, who is also the president of her recording company -- has been carefully calculated. She arrived in the wake of Whitney Houston, whose ceaseless positive, gospel-charged ballads and dance songs were best sellers. Ms. Carey worked with some of Ms. Houston's producers, trying to reach the same audience, which bridges romantic adults and dancing teenagers; on her first album, she even rapped. Unlike Ms. Houston, however, Ms. Carey writes her own lyrics and collaborates on her music and production. Video clips made the lithe, curly-maned Ms. Carey a familiar presence, singing secular gospel of self-esteem and satisfaction, with the singer "feeling emotion higher than the heavens above." And when, after two albums, it began to seem odd that she had not given live concerts, she shrewdly performed on "MTV Unplugged"; the show was released as a live EP. With a new studio album, "Music Box" (Columbia), it was time to tour. Ms. Carey's concert was about mastery, not innovation. It followed arena-pop conventions, with costume changes (all black until a red evening dress for the Christmas encore), a number sung seated at the edge of the stage, and cues for audience participation. Her co-producer, Walter Afanasieff, played keyboards in her band. A gospel choir appeared for a few songs, and male dancers arrived for uptempo tunes; wisely, Ms. Carey didn't join the chorus line, treating the concert more as a vocal showcase than as a spectacle. Her songs also follow conventions: big-build ballad ("I Don't Wanna Cry"), girl-group update ("Dreamlover"), uplifting pop-gospel homily ("Make It Happen"), dance workout ("Emotions"). But they are good-natured, catchy vehicles for vocal display. Beyond any doubt, Ms. Carey's voice is no studio concoction. Her range extends from a rich, husky alto to dog-whistle high notes; she can linger over sensual turns, growl with playful confidence, syncopate like a scat singer. Although rock concerts aren't known for precise intonation, she sang with startlingly exact pitch. She has soaked up ideas from gospel, soul, rock, jazz and pop singer, particularly the melismas of singers from Barbra Streisand to Aretha Franklin to Minnie Riperton to Thelma Houston. In some songs, Ms. Carey could challenge the world record for notes packed into a single syllable. On albums, Ms. Carey's singing often sounds narcissistic, as if she has to cram every phrase with virtuosity. On an arena stage, however, her flamboyance was just right, especially because Ms. Carey didn't overdo it. Most songs were strategically plotted as arcs: introductory wordless "ooh's," slow and sultry opening verses, then a gradual climb to ripping gospel phrases and those ultra high notes, followed by time to taper off. When Ms. Carey sang remakes of 1970's hits, like "Without You" or "I'll Be There" (a duet with Trey Lorenz, who also appeared with her on "MTV Unplugged"), she mimicked enough of the original to make a connection, then set off her own fireworks. For all Ms. Carey's skill and discipline, her concert wasn't a display of cold perfectionism. After singing the S.O.S. Band's "Just Be Good to Me," Ms. Carey went to toss her disco-nostalgia leather hat into the audience, and accidentally flung it backward on stage instead. She retrieved it, joked about her dim prospects in sports, and hurled it forward as planned. The crowd was happy; its polished pop idol wasn't afraid to look human. (bron: New York Times, 13 december 1993) SINGER TALKS ABOUT HER STORYBOOK MARRIAGE, HER INTERRACIAL HERITAGE AND HER SUDDEN FAME I'VE ALWAYS HAD PETS - DOGS AND CATS Despite the cool weather, pop star Mariah Carey is in a convivial, outdoorsy mood. At her country retreat in the heart of rural Upstate New York dairy farming, the darling diva, who turned 24 in March, demonstrates her driving skills, first on a utility vehicle and then in a Jeep, with her frisky Jack Russell terrier (Jack) ever at her side. Later, inside the farmhouse near the fireplace, she cuddles with Tompkins, one of her two Persian cats, and offers hot chocolate and buttered popcorn to visitors. I've always had pets - dogs and cats - my whole life, she says, as she romps with Jack in one of the two main rooms of the colonial-style house. The two-story dwelling sits on a hill overlooking acres of pasture, woodlands, a large pond, a guest lodge and a barn where four horses are kept during the summer. The decor is chic Adirondack with saddles resting on bannisters and arms of chairs. On tables, mantles and shelves are framed photographs of Mariah - at the beach, astride her palomino Misty, with her husband, Sony Music president Tommy Mottola. It was Mottola who discovered the talented young singer at a Columbia Records party in 1988. After her six-million-selling debut album hit the airwaves in 1990, the Long Island native, barely out of her teens, became well-known around the world, thanks to an incredible voice that, like a powerful magnet, attracted record buyers as well as media attention. Her four albums have sold more than 16 million copies in the U.S., and she has received Grammy, American Music and Soul Train Music Awards. The talented singer of interracial parentage also has found happiness on a personal level. Last June she married Mottola, a wealthy divorce 20 years her senior, in a star-studded, fairy tale wedding. Yet, success and wealth apparently have not spoiled the princess of pop music. Like a little sister or the girl next door, she is still refreshingly sincere and genuinely sweet. In fact, Mariah says she detests abusive, egotistical celebrities and can't imagine turning into such a tyrant. If I haven't changed by now, I'm not going to change, she says, going further to describe herself as very independent, very spiritual in my own way, and as a person who worries a lot about whether she has hurt someone else's feelings. It sometimes hurts me that people may think I'm a bitchy diva, she reveals. That's not who I am. You can call her Mariah or Ms. Carey or even Mrs. Mottola, but don't call Mariah Carey an overnight success. My whole life I'd been working toward this, she says of her meteoric rise to fame. I grew up without having a lot of things, money and stuff like that. My mother and I moved around a lot; she worked three jobs sometimes. So I really feel that I've been struggling my whole life, and it all just came to a head when I came to the city and tried to support myself. I went through a lot of rough times when I was a little girl. After her parents divorced when she was 3 years old, Mariah was reared by her Irish-American mother, Patricia Carey, a vocal coach and former opera singer. During her childhood, Mariah only periodically saw her father, Alfred Roy Carey, a Black aeronautical engineer who lives in Washington, D.C., and also has a home on Long Island. Her father's mother is Black, she explains, while his father is Venezuelan. She says the stress of being an interracial couple in the '60s and '70s put exceptional strain on her parents' marriage. Over the years, their dogs were poisoned and cars were set on fire and blown up. And she appreciates the fact that her father has been "respectful" of her fame and privacy. He has not come out of the woodwork saying stupid things about me; he has pride and he's not that kind of person, she says. He's a good person. I don't have anything against him. It's just very difficult growing up in a divorced family - the tension, anger and bitterness between the parents is often put off on the children, and because I was so young when they divorced, it was really a major split for me. After the divorce, she says, her older sister Allison, now 32 and a housewife on Long Island, lived with her father but moved out when she got married at a young age. Her brother, Morgan, now 33 and manager of a rap group, soon went off to college. I grew up with my mom, and I have more in common with her in terms of music, she says. That is such a major part of both our lives. My father is more of a cerebral person. He's a great mathematician, an aeronautical engineer, and he's completely opposite of me in terms of what he excels at. I'm horrible at math. We don't have the same interests. So when I would go there, we didn't have that much in common. But I have good memories of doing things with him when I was a little girl. Mariah says she has dozens of Black relatives. Every time I would go there to visit I would really enjoy it, she recalls. And I wish I had been a part of it more. I loved them when I met them. I'd never experienced a big family like that, because my mother's family basically disowned her when she married my father. It was an interracial thing. So I didn't know anybody from that side except my mother and grandmother. Comfortable talking about her family background, Mariah settles into the cushiony sofa. I am very much aware of my Black heritage, but I'm also aware of the other elements of who I am. And I don't say "I'm Black" and that's it. But it's not true. I have a mother who is 100 percent Irish who raised me from birth and who is my best friend. So if I were to say that I'm Black only, that would be negating everything she is. So when people ask, I say I'm Black, Venezuelan and Irish, because that's who I am. She stops to catch her breath and sip from a glass of red wine. Through her thick, curly auburn hair, she runs slender fingers laden with a six-karat, pear-shaped diamond ring and a diamong wedding band. You know, sometimes I feel that way, but I can only be all the things that I am. I cannot be one out of the three. It's just a hard thing, being interracial. It is especially difficult if you grow up with only one parent. Mariah Carey shares the experiences and feelings of thousands of other individuals of biracial parentage. At times she felt ostracized by White kids and by Black kids because she was not "100 percent" like either. It was a very alienating thing for me, she says. It's hard growing up like that. But lucky for me, my mother never said anything negative about my father. She never discouraged me from having a good feeling about him. She always taught me to believe in myself, to love all the things I am. In that sense I'm very lucky, because I could have been a very screwed up person. It takes a level head to deal with the enormous amount of attention her success has generated, not to mention the realities of harsh media critics and naysayers in general. Despire her popularity with the record-buying public, some detractors attribute her success to her marrying the boss. Still others criticize her vocals, her lyrics, her style. She takes it all in stride, though she acknowledges that yes, she was "upset" and "disappointed" when critics panned her performance at the Miami concert that kicked off her first tour last fall. But Mariah didn't just get mad; she took to heart the "valid criticism" and perfected her performance. She says, I took all the anger and put it out there in my next show. Which got rave reviews. As a producer, songwriter, and performer, Mariah creates positive, inspirational music. When lyrics and melodies flow through her head, she calls her answering service to record a line or hum a tune. Of all her songs, she's written or collaborated on all but two. While the tour was exciting and the release of another best-selling album thrilling, Mariah says the highlight of the past year was her storybook wedding, which was attended by a host of celebrities. She enthusiastically offers to show a video of the nupitals, apologizing that her wedding album is back in the city. With twinkling eyes glued to a huge television screen, she narrates rehearsal scenes and then the actual wedding day. Like a princess in a fairy tale, Mariah and her bridal gown with 27-foot train and 10-foot veil emerge from a limousine in a steady summer drizzle. Six "ladies in waiting" are there to help get her dress into the church. It was like a really big ordeal to get that dress into the car, she says with a chuckle. It took so many people to shove that thing in there. It was like 27 feet long, a major ordeal. And it was raining, so it was even worse. Though she obviously takes delight in her elaborate nuptials, Mariah Carey did not grow up dreaming of a big wedding. It feels good being married, but I never thought I'd be married, she says, now nibbling on cheese and crackers. I never thought I would because my parents got divorced, and it gives you a different attitude about that type of thing. It kind of hardens you; you know what I mean? I did it [got married] because I guess I grew up about it, realized it doesn't have to be bad. When I was growing up, most of my friends' parents were divorced. Patricia Carey discovered that little Mariah had a gifted voice when she was a mere toddler. The proud mother started nourishing the budding talent and supporting her daughter's desire to be a recording artist. In junior high, Mariah started writing songs, and in high school she commuted to Manhattan to work with professionals, often not returning home until 3 a.m. I would have to get up at 7 a.m. to go to school, and I was always late, she says. Immediately after high school graduation in 1987, Mariah moved into the city where she slept on a mattress on the floor of a bare apartment and worked as a waitress, coat checker and part-time backup singer. Her worse job, she recalls with a laugh, was sweeping up hair in a beauty salon where the owner tried to rename her Echo. She quit the first day. Ten months later, at age 18, she met Mottola at a Columbia Records party. As the story goes, when Mottola left the party, he popped Mariah's cassette into the tape deck of his limo and rushed back to the party to find the girl with the incredible voice. She had left, but he tracked her down and within a week offered her a record deal. Mariah says the romance just sort of happened while she and Mottola were working on her first album. We had a lot in common, and we just gradually came together, she says. Her husband is very romantic, she adds, recalling how while she was in London he sent two dozen pink roses every day. Concerning their 20-year age difference, she say: I really don't focus on it. We don't look at each other as two people with a big age difference. We are just right for each other, and that is all that matters. If you are really right for each other, that will shine through all the differences, everything - race and age. She adds that she and her husband have a mutual respect for each other's opinions, and that he is very creative, more than just a businessman. Mariah points out that years ago Mottola, as an aspiring singer, had a record deal with Sony's Epic Records, and that he was a successful artist manager for many years before he rejoined Sony in 1988. And he's an incredible cook, she adds. He's so spoiled me with his food that I can't go to restaurants anymore. While Mottola cooks on weekends, Mariah acknowledges that she's not much of a homemaker. In fact, while she was growing up, her mom would chide her about her sloppiness. "What are you going to do when you grow up and have to clean your own house?" her mom would ask. Well, I'm going to be a famous singer and have a maid, she'd respond, in jest. Mariah Carey has realized her life-long dream. In fact, she says she is a better person now that she's been blessed with success. I'm really fortunate, I'm really happy, and I'm really lucky to be where I am, she says. All I can do now is be the best I can be. (Ebony, April 1994) MARIAH'S AT THE LATE NIGHT SHOW, HOSTED BY DAVID LETTERMAN DAVID: Nice to see ya! That was great, that was very cool. How many people were in that group there: Musicians and singers and so on? MARIAH: Hmmmm? DAVID: Like twenty or something? At least twenty? MARIAH: Yeah, about twenty. DAVID: Yeah, that was great. It was very powerful. Very, very nice sound. Now, when you go on the road, you travel with all of those folks, or do you take more with ya? MARIAH: Hmm... I try to have, you know, at least that many, because for songs like that, you know, you have to recreate the right sound. DAVID: Yeah, that was cool, I enjoyed that, it was very nice. And they had robes on, it was like we were in church a little bit... MARIAH: Yeah, very spiritual, you know. DAVID: Very, very nice. MARIAH: But I have to say one thing, and don't get mad at me, it's so cold in here for singing, forget it! I'm sorry, that wasn't like, that wasn't like a shock, but seriously, I'm just saying it, so people know when they see this, that I was little horse, cause it's little cold in here. DAVID: Well, after my salary, we have no money left over for you. All right, fine, ok. We have your names, we know where you live. How old are you, do you mind if I ask you that? MARIAH: Twenty four. DAVID: Now, that's just twenty four. See, this is just a great story, isn't it? Just teriffic, you get the world by the tale, you have the rest of your life ahead of you, it's just great, could things be better for you? MARIAH: It's pretty good, I'm not gonna lie to ya! DAVID: Ha ha, well then you have no bizness complaining about the heat, all right. MARIAH: No, it's... really good... I've been really, really, really fortunate and I'm just thankful for everything I have. DAVID: Well, you deserve everything you have. MARIAH: Thank you! DAVID: Now, we've not met before, have we? MARIAH: Well, we haven't met, but I saw you one time at this place in Hampton. I think it's called The Quiet Clamor, something like that? DAVID: That's a restaurant out in Long Island, yeah, yeah. MARIAH: You was like hanging out and I recognized you: Well, it's David Letterman, but I didn't say anything 'cause I don't think you. DAVID: I was by myself? MARIAH: Well I think you were by yourself. DAVID: And who were you with? MARIAH: I was with Tommy. DAVID: Yeah, Tommy? Tommy? I don't know Tommy? MARIAH: Tommy, my husband. Tommy Mottola. But he wasn't my husband. DAVID: So, you were there enjoying a quiet dinner together, and I was by myself? MARIAH: Yeah! DAVID: Thanks for inviting me over. MARIAH: I'm sorry. Well, I don't... I was gonna say "Hi", but then I didn't think you knew who I was, 'Cause it was like, you know, a couple of years ago. DAVID: The poodles were in the car. MARIAH: Yes! DAVID: Speaking of poodles, you have a dog here? MARIAH: Yes, I have my new little... DAVID: Bring out the dog! What kind of dog do we have? Oh, there's the dog! MARIAH: Isn't she cute? DAVID: Wait a minute! That's not a dog! MARIAH: This is my new baby... look... wait, look! DAVID: Good heaven! MARIAH: Tell me she's not the cutest thing! Look! DAVID: No, that's some kind of monkey or something you have there! MARIAH: Look how cute she is! No, she's... DAVID: Put that dog up here and let me have a look. MARIAH: Oh, no, I don't want her to fall. DAVID: No, she won't fall, we'll keep an eye on her. MARIAH: Right, right... DAVID: What kind of dog is that? MARIAH: She's a Yorkshire terrier,... And I wanted you to help me name her, because I haven't been able to think of a name for her yet. DAVID: Well, of a the top of my head, Davina! MARIAH: I had a feeling you would come up with something like that! DAVID: A couple of these would be good on toast, wouldn't they? Will this animal get to be like normal size? MARIAH: She's one pound now, and she's gonna be like three pounds. DAVID: Ha ha, three pounds? MARIAH: So I can carry her around with me and bring her, bring her with me. DAVID: Oh, she's very cute. How old did you say she is? MARIAH: She's nine weeks. DAVID: Oh, this is very sweet. MARIAH: Yes, Tommy surprised me. He brought me out... DAVID: Hallo baby! Hallo! MARIAH: She likes you, David! DAVID: Hall baby! Hi! Aah! Bite my nose! Bite my nose! MARIAH: Well, her hair, her hair's messed up! DAVID: Well, get that bould right! MARIAH: Yes! She must look good at all times. DAVID: Oh,absoluteky! You have a lot of animals? MARIAH: I have... Yeah, I got a few! DAVID: But this is the newest edition? MARIAH: Yes, this is my new edition. But I need you to help me name her, though! DAVID: Hmmm... Linda, Linda! MARIAH: What do you like more? Zsa-Zsa? Or, what was the other name, Cubcake? Or Gigi? DAVID: Oh, I see, I really don't have a choise, is what you're saying, haha? MARIAH: Come on! She needs to have a cute name! DAVID: Well, gees, you can't go wrong with Cubcake! MARIAH: All right, all right, all right! DAVID: We have to go to commercial. We'll be right back here, with Cubcake! MARIAH: OK? Make fun of me! DAVID: You have another dog that does a trick, but he's not around? MARIAH: Yes, but I wanted to bring him out, he's so jealous! DAVID: Come back another time! MARIAH: Next time I'll do it! DAVID: All right! Go ahead! Help yourself! Good luck! MARIAH: OK! DAVID: Wow, very nice touch! It was great fun to have you here. You did a teriffic job and the song was just great, and I really appriciate you going through the trouble, to have all of the folks coming in! It was very nice. We enjoyed that! MARIAH: Thank you, very much! (uitgezonden in mei 1994)