Man in the Mirror and My Blue Day

I felt slightly blue today maybe because the garage is brimming with things I’ve been told that I personally should take to the dump, just because I’m the one who put them out there. That I should be the one to get my hands dirty handling a bunch of broken coffee makers and blow-driers, never mind the bath mats that have had bleach spilled on them and so look like victims of vitiligo, the bleach coming into it because every few months I go through a stage where I feel like changing the colors of things and so dye the towels, my clothes, even the lampshades if I don’t like the way they look on a particular day, and then sometimes well most of the time I end up making the colors perhaps a little TOO vivid and have to try toning them down with a quart of Clorox. All right so now I feel bad about mentioning “vitiligo” because just think how hard it must be to have that pigment problem and be spotted all over like Michael Jackson. Wait a sec, now I’m Googling Michael who I have been worrying over ever since his nose fell off and would you look at that! There are scads of videos on You Tube where you can watch his face change over the years, in, like, time-lapse photography practically.

‘Course now I feel even sadder thinking how people love to criticize poor skinny MJ who certainly did NOT molest any children and I should know. Sometimes I think I’m the only one who really knows him now that Diana’s gone, the only one who’s been there for it all, the Liz Taylor friendship, the Barbara Walters interview, the Oprah one, his own descriptions of how would take him to the mirror as a little fella and say “Look! Look how ugly you are” and all.

But hold the phone maybe I’m not the only one! Because here’s this chat room I’ve just entered where people have been really dicing him up fine and a young woman weighs in and says to this other moron “How OLD are you anyway? All you ‘teens’ need to grow up so you don't become lame donkey-ass adults. Grow up, teenager!” Well now I believe that’s done it! I feel completely cheerful again. “Lame donkey-ass:” now there’s a phrase that’s worth remembering!