Monday, June 29, 2009
I am happy to report the birthday celebration(s) went well. On his actual birthday we had a surprise lunch with some great friends. Then cupcakes and Chinese food with daddy, that night. I will admit I cried a little that day.
The next day we had a cake and wine play date with some other mommies and their babies. The next day we went to the pediatrician for Pmonkey's one year check up. It's all part of my master plan- it is best to take your kids in for booster shots after they have eaten nothing but icing for the previous 36 hours. While in the office, the pediatrician pointed out a bruise on Psizzle's head. She very innocently and not accusingly inquired about it's origin. I mentioned we had a playdate the day before and there were a lot of babies hopped up on icing and juice. I did not mention the wine the mommies were drinking. No need to implicate myself while simultaneously throwing my friends under the bus. Parker continues to love all things cake and icing related and if you would like him to come celebrate your birthday with you, he will happily oblige.
While it was a great week of celebrations here in Southern Maryland, I realize in the Hollywood part of the world, it was a killer of a week.
(HA! I'm going to hell for that.)
First was Ed McMahon, who apparently died from the embarrassment after appearing on cheesey lending commercials with MC Hammer. I'm serious, have you seen that commercial? I think I'd rather be dead too, than appear in that piece. When I was little I used to think McMahon was somehow involved with McDonald's Egg McMuffins. I'm guessing this is because they all have Mc in their names, but I always connected him to McMuffins, not McNuggets or McFish. I also used to think my mom was the lady on the Sun Maid raisin box.
I wasn't that smart when I was little, imaginative yes, but smart? Questionable at best.
Next was Farrah Fawcett. I do not know much about her although she was legitimately ill pre-death and I think it was kind of expected. Not that it's any better, but it does soften the blow a bit. I also bet a bigger deal would have been made about the iconic image and reputation she left behind if her death was not over shadowed by the Gloved One.
I have a great friend who shares a bday with Pman who also happens to be a HUGE Michael Jackson fan, music-wise, not questionable, illegal activity-wise. When I heard the news I thought of her immediately and left her a heartfelt voicemail. She may have been drowning her sorrows with a big glass of Jesus juice at the time- she has neither confirmed nor denied this.
What child of the 60's, 70's and 80's doesn't have a fondness for and connection to their era's collection of MJ hit? I'm not going to go on and on about the pedophilia accusations. I'm not going to take the obvious pot shots at his plastic surgery (he said he only had two on his nose- ha!) or the names of his children (Blanket?). We all have a little crazy in us, Michael just wasn't so good at hiding his. I remember the first time I realized who he was. My older sister used to rent the Thriller video from the local low-rent video rental place. Yes, you could rent the music video. Anyway, she would rent it and as soon as Michael's eyes started glowing, I would scream, run up the steps and lock myself in our room for the remainder of the evening. She knew I would do this and yet she rented it every time. Bitch.
Then a few years later I remember hearing "Man in the Mirror" on the radio and feeling like a real horses ass for being so afraid of this man. This man who was changing his ways and trying to make the world a better place and informing me that if I close my heart then I am closing my mind. At that point, my mom bought me the Bad RECORD- I'm talking vinyl record to be played on a turn table with a needle. I'm not a huge MJ fan, but there are songs on every album I like. We have all heard the good and bad about him and have already made our judgements. The thing is, he will forever have an influence on music that cannot be denied.
Billy Mays will forever have influence in the realm of yelling at the general public to purchase crap they likely do not need. I once heard him say he does not yell, he projects. Really now? I will remember that line next time Josh complains that he is tired of me "yelling" at him about (fill in blank). I will cite the late great Mr. Mays and inform Josh that I am just projecting and would he like to purchase this handy putty I have for 2 installments of $29.95 plus shipping and handling?
Finally, it must be said or asked, is anyone else surprised that Patrick Swayze made it through the week of death? The last I saw of him, he looked terrible. Like an extra in the street dancing sequence from the terrifying Thriller video of my childhood. It will be a sad day when he does the spaghetti arm tango to heaven. They say these things happen in threes, so who do you think will help him carry the watermelons to the dirty dance floor in the sky?
P.S. No time for proofreading...hope this makes sense...