The Rockabilly Friendster (sort of).
Like a lot of people my age, Michael Jackson was my hero when I was a kid. I, too, had a unusual fondness for rodents. The fact that Michael sang Ben so beautifully to his pet rat endeared him to me. Now, with his surrender to authorities being carried live by at least five Los Angeles TV stations, the crescendo of Michael Jackson's sad downfall will be witnessed by the entire world. No one likes to see their heroes fall (even though MJ hasn't been my hero since I was eight) and it's even harder to believe that people we admire might be capable of such loathsome crimes.
I've always had a thing for corny television 'news' personalities. In high school, I lusted after Bob Lobel. I loved that he never bothered to mask his contempt for the lowly weatherman or anyone else who rubbed him the wrong way. These days, my affection is directed towards Joel Grover. His sanctimonious scolding of local ne'r-do-wells during sweeps is highly entertaining and perversely, a real turn-on. I can't wait to see what Joel uncovers on tonight's investigation!
This morning, Fran and I met Darling Cousin Brucie and Dave from Paradise Hotel for breakfast. I ate WAY too many pancakes and learned that in the grand old tradition of all reality stars, Dave is moving to Hollywood. Do have a burning question for Dave? Let me know and I may use it in a future interview with the man who made it to the end of the game, but went home with absolutely nothing.