Wednesday, November 09, 2005

Housecleaning Issues

Hello again, Kindred Souls. Sorry for the long gap between posts. Allow me to do a bit of “housecleaning”, i.e., address a couple issues and answer a question or two.

1.) My medical condition: I saw an orthopedic surgeon last week. For a few anxious days, I thought I might have to go under the knife. But the surgeon checked my MRI and said that wouldn’t be necessary, thank God. He took me off most of the painkillers I was on. This made me happy, since I was tired of being a drugged-out zombie. (At first I truly needed the pills, but certain nameless physicians I no longer see need to be a bit more attentive to their jobs. Three months on Gabapentin is ridiculous!) Now I just take Aleve for occasional pain. The surgeon extended my physical therapy until December. God willing, I should be good to go in January.

Those of you who asked: thank you for your concern. I truly appreciate it.

2.) “My Fair Brady” update: Okay, slap my wrist and call me “butthead”, but I watched the whole damn thing. I'm sorry. I know what I said. But I got hooked on it, like soap operas or chocolate. It's a similar addiction, only much worse. With chocolate, you gain ugly pounds you can at least see. Empty video calories like these make you lose something—IQ points—and you don't realize it until after the fact. “My Fair Brady” reduced me to the intellectual level of your average “Maury Povich” viewer. "Thank God for Professors Crick and Watson," I found myself saying. "If they hadn't discovered DNA, we might never have guessed that mouthbreathing trailer park residents practice unsafe sex and suffer from a complete lack of scruples!" In order to bulk up my gray matter, I’m on a strict PBS and History Channel diet for the next three months.

For both of you who care, here is a Cliff’s Notes summary of the conclusion of “My Fair Brady”:

When all was said and done, Adrianne Curry decided that she’s a good Catholic girl. Never mind that she’s also a recovering drug addict, an admitted bisexual and a cheesecake model who habitually prances nude in front of TV cameras. In her own mind if nowhere else, Adrianne is batting for Pope Benedict’s team. So the 22-year old beauty threatened to dump her boyfriend, former “Brady Bunch” star Christopher (“Peter”) Knight, unless he agreed to marry her. Throughout the series, Adrianne maintained that her fondest dream was to wed Knight, make a traditional-style home with him and bear his children—in other words, a real-life “Brady Bunch”. It was time, she said, for Knight to make a “commitment” to her. After all, they had been dating (and sleeping together) for almost seven whole months.

So what did Mr. Porkchops-and-Applesauce do? Put yourself in his shoes. Peter (I mean, Christopher) is a 47-year old ex-child TV star. He managed to stay out of trouble, build a lucrative career for himself outside of acting (computers/software), revive his career as an actor/TV host and maintain a minimum of dignity while doing so. Peter (I mean, Christopher) also has two failed marriages under his belt. What would you do?

You got it. He ducked and danced like Muhammad Ali. In episode after episode of “My Fair Brady”, Christopher Knight made more excuses than the mayor of New Orleans and FEMA combined. He encouraged Adrianne to slow down, get her own place and be “independent”. He dragged her to Puerto Rico for a diversionary vacation that I’m sure VH1 didn’t pay for. Knight even went out and found Adrianne a fancy townhouse he said she could “make her own”. But the young model would not be denied. In a tearful finale, Knight dropped to his knees, pulled out a ring (nestled in a box emblazoned with the name of the jewelry store chain Adrianne coincidentally endorses in TV commercials) and popped The Question. Of course, Adrianne said yes. Boo-hoo-hoo, smooch-smooch, the end. Almost.

One day after the “My Fair Brady” conclusion aired, radio personality Howard Stern announced that the two lovebirds had broken up. Adrianne is supposedly dating some “American Idol” reject who’s even less famous than she. Knight is probably at home, searching through his little black book for Eve Plumb's phone number. I emerge from this reality TV cesspool clinging to a single, glittering hope: that VH1 switches back to an all-music video format. As soon as possible.

3.) Moron Alert: I don’t know the exact name of the program, because I came in on it halfway through. But earlier this week (Sunday), A&E aired a show chockfull o’ nuts who claimed that the slew of hurricanes, tsunamis and earthquakes our planet has recently endured is either:

A.) Proof that God (Christian and Muslim) is punishing us for our sinful ways.
B.) A sinister plot by Russia, China, India or the U.S. to gain world control.
C.) A sinister plot by the Japanese mafia to punish the U.S. for A-bombing Hiroshima and Nagasaki during World War II.

Then, there’s always choice D.): proof that A&E is so desperate for ratings, it would stoop to giving such shameful tabloid-fodder a national forum. “Arts & Entertainment Channel” my ass. It should be called “The National Enquirer Channel”. Methinks it’s time to use the “Child Lock” feature on my cable box. No, I don’t have kids. I’d be locking A&E out to protect myself. From idiocy, that is.

4.) The Woman: Come on, you’ve seen her. The chestnut-haired beauty pitching, the internet bargain bin, on TV? “It’s all about the ‘o,’” she purrs sensually. Well, I’m in love with her. Truly, madly and deeply. More than Marg Helgenberger or Jennifer Connelly. More than Uma Thurman, Jennifer Aniston, Lucy Liu, Jennifer Garner and Misty Mundae combined. is a point-and-click version of the classic shlockhouse. I’d never shop there. But I love, Love, LOVE the Woman! I saw her new ad for the first time this morning. My beloved strolls down a “winter wonderland in Anytown, U.S.A.” street, clad in a white fur coat and sexy boots. She sings an jingle set to a soft-rock rendition of “Jingle Bells”. “Sweet Christ on a cracker!” I exclaimed, bug-eyed and panting heavily. “She’s beautiful and talented!” Then I passed out. Information overload.

I came to some time later, feeling a sharp hankering for. . .knowledge. A sweaty-palmed Google search revealed my beauty’s back-story. Her name is Sabine Ehrenfeld. She’s a German model, is at least 40 years old (unbelievable!) and is well-known across the pond. Sabine speaks German, French and Italian and she is a licensed pilot. Her wide range of hobbies includes yoga, rock-climbing, skiing, snowboarding, martial arts, target shooting (pistols) and equestrian show-jumping. My God, my beloved is a Renaissance woman! Oh and uh, she’s married and has a couple of kids, too. Bum-mer.

But I can still dream, can’t I? A good place to do that is at the “Sabine Ehrenfeld Internet Fan Page” ( You’ll probably run into me over there. Just follow the trail of drool. If Pamela Anderson can get her own show, why not Sabine? Are you listening, Hollywood?

That’s it for housecleaning. I'm going to go take a cold shower. Catch you later!


Blogger Mona said...

Wow, what an update!
First, I'm SO glad to hear you did not need to go under the knife.

Second, thanks for the Brady recap. I think.

Third, what an interesting person for fall for. And how cool to find out that she's a deep, multi-faceted woman.

4:56 PM  

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