...or are you not holding your breadth waiting for your ticket to the Michael Jackson memorial?

Did I miss the memo where Michael Jackson was declared the second coming of Gandhi? Was his performance of Billie Jean so epic that the memorial service for its creator would fill the Rose Bowl? (I know, the service is actually at the Staple Center.) Will Thriller endure in the American cultural pantheon alongside God Bless America, The Battle Hymn of The Republic or The Purple People Eater? Although it is a truism that each generation has its popular icons, the media outpouring for the King of Pop has been, to say the least, extraordinary to say the most, excessive.


Far be it from me to confuse the issue with facts but, Michael Jackson hasn't produced anything musically significant in years. What he has produced is a steady stream of head-shaking headlines. From waving his baby over the railing of a German hotel balcony to hosting children's sleepovers at the Neverland Ranch, Jackson has given new definition to the term "artist as kook". Physically, he has transformed himself (with the help of a condition called vitiligo) from an adorable black child sensation to a cartoon crossover between Plasticman and Mummenschantz. Jackson had, by the time of his death, more work done on his face that the statues on Mount Rushmore.


All of this odd behavior doesn't diminish his enormous talent and universal appeal. Thriller remains the best-selling album of all time and produced seven number one hits. His stage performances throughout the eighties were legendary. Jackson almost singlehandedly put MTV on the broadcast map. Nevertheless, the endless television coverage and the plethora of magazine cover stories is more fitting for Pope John Paul II or FDR than a musician. The single most absurd coverage to date is Anderson Cooper's trackdown of Bubbles the Chimp. CNN should be ashamed.


The specifics of the memorial scheduled for July 7th in Los Angeles have been kept secret but one suspects that the service will have all the solemnity of a Cirque du Soleis. Leading the mourners will be Joe Jackson who has thusfar found the death of his meal-ticket son a wonderful opportunity to discuss his new record company. Expect to see all your old favorites. They'll be Jesse Jackson, a requisite fixture at the service of any black celebrity (he had the gig for Miles Davis), Al Sharpton, a requisite fixture at the funeral of any black person who dies tragically (Al did the honors for James Brown) and Debbie Rowe. Ms. Rowe was the charming young lady who 1) married Michael, 2) may have given him two children, and 3)sold the kids to Jackson ...twice.

If Ms. Rowe is attending, there is a payday in her future.


Amid all the disgraceful huckstering, there is one person who appears to possess the only dignity available in the entire Southern California area. Michael's mother Katherine, who has been awarded temporary custody of the Jackson children, has been a pillar of reserve and decorum throughout the entire sorded affair. As Angelenos rush to buy their memorial service tickets on ebay and gush effusively over how much Michael Jackson meant to them, someone should pay attention to Katherine Jackson. She didn't loose a paycheck or a free ride to undeserved celebrity.She probably doesn't know how many gold records Michael Jackson had or, how far in debt his estate actually is. Katherine Jackson lost a son. That's enough tragedy for anyone.

...or would lipstick not be enough to beautify this pig of a press conference?

Before the good people of Alaska got to decide if they had had enough of Sarah Palin, the Governor has announced that she has had enough of Alaska. It's too cold, it's too snowy and most important, it's too far from all those ass-kissing Conservatives that form the Republican base. It's also too far from the HQ of CBS, ABC, NBC, CNN, Fox News, and The New York Times. Sarah may profess to hate them but how can you rail at the coverage you get in the media if you aren't being covered? Of course if you want coverage, it helps if you tell someone in the press about your press conference.

Not content to announce that she will not seek a second term as Alaska's Governor, Sweet Sarah has abdicated her ice throne as of July 26 this year. Conjecture as to the reason for this strangely timed escape is just that; conjecture. The Governor gave no reason for her hasty retreat. She babbled on for ten or fifteen minutes during a news conference that was planned with a little less thought than a Tupperware party. She spoke about Kosovo, brave soldiers, point guards, Gen. MacArthur, and politics as blood sport. What? No mention of Michael Jackson? As with most of Governor Palin's public pronouncements, this speech rambled like an Alaska road. It just goes for a while with no discernible destination, then stops.

Amidst all the dreck about how much she's accomplished (in half a term) and how noble she is by quitting the easiest government gig on the planet (after Joe Biden's), she had the colossal gall to suggest that she was disgusted by the media's treatment of her family. This is the same women who carted her household all over America as though they were the road show of the Grapes of Wrath. Baby Trig has more frequent flyer miles than Sully Sullenberger.

True to her proclivity for making stuff up (I rejected the Road to Nowhere, etc) she feigned distaste at the mean things that have been said about her Downs Syndrome baby. For the record, no one has said anything about her youngest child. No one. The reason that the rest of her brood became punchlines for the late nite TV guys is that she put them out there like contestants on Big Brother. Conversly, the reason Chelsea Clinton and the Bush twins were left alone was because their parents kept them out of the public eye. Palin treated her family like props in a minstrel show.

Because speculation is rampant regarding the plans of the soon-to-be-ex-Governor, allow me to suggest a few possibilities:

1) Prior to a run for the Republican nomination for President in 2012, Ms. Palin plans to obtain an on-line degree in Geography. Particular attention will be paid to the distance between By-God, Alaska and By-Godski, Russia.

2) Ms. Palin needs a full three years to accumulate a wardrobe that's suitable for visiting all fifty states...without help from the RNC.

3) More time will be needed to write a few new jokes...hopefully some that don't involve lipstick, hockey moms or Bill Ayers.

4) She is planning a trip to the Mayo clinic to have "Golly" and "You Betcha" surgically removed from her vocabulary.

Sarah feels it will take all of her time to convince Republicans and the electorate at large that she isn't really the airheaded, all hat-no cattle, ill-informed, poorly spoken, overly folksy, minor league, impossibly unqualified light weight that we have all come to know and discount.

Anyway, congratulations to the people of Alaska. You were able to shed this embarrassing, do-nothing executive without the help of a sex scandal. Remember, Republicans don't quit because they cheat. They only quit when their constituents can't be trusted to feed their out-of-control egos. There is every reason to believe that, if she isn't impeached, Governor Palin would be soundly thrashed in 2010.

Face it Alaska, you're not cool enough for Sarah Palin. I'll bet that's the first time you ever heard that.

...or does "getting to first base" mean the same thing in the Southern Hemisphere?

Love is never having to say "I did it for the frequent-flyer miles".



Pity the poor journalist or blogger desperately attempting to stay ahead of the Mark Sanford story. No sooner do we attempt an analysis of the revelations of last week: I wasn't really hiking the Appalachian Trail. Actually I was exploring the "Andes", and it wasn't my first expedition. But don't hate me too much because I'm in love.


Now we are faced with "Episode Dos" in the steamiest soap since Hospital Corners.. It seems that Governor Mark's dalliance in South America might not have been his first trip south of the border (wink, wink, nod, nod). In an interview with the Associated Press, Governor Swordsman admitted to a few additional trysts with at least four other women. In a statement filled with more euphemisms than my last trip to a confessional, Gov. Sanford spoke of not "crossing the sex line". I immediately assumed that there was a hookers strike and the Governor was being a good union supporter. This is the best information tease since Gypsy Rose Lee.


Attempting to parse his behavior, Sanford even included dancing as one of the activities he considered to be an out-of-bounds encounter. WOW! At the very least I thought we were talking second base. Apparently these tip-toes up to the "sex line" were a dress rehearsal (actually an un-dress rehearsal) for the main event with Maria Belen Chapur, of Buenos Aires hot tamale fame. We have been spared a blow-by-blow (sorry) description of his activities in the Southern Hemisphere but it's clear that Governor Sanford pole-vaulted over the "sex line" with room to spare.


My personal favorite was his description of a trip to New York, ostensibly to end the affair with Ms. Chapur. Deciding that an email brush-off would be gauche, Governor Sanford not only went to meet his lady in Manhattan, he brought along a "spiritual advisor". This reverse Cyrano act apparently didn't go as planned. I suspect that the spiritual advisor was asked to wait in the car while Governor Hot Pants rekindled his love. Wouldn't you love to have been on that plane ride back to South Carolina?


Sanford has delivered a personal check (presumably not from the couple's joint account) for $3,000 to cover the cost of his recent get-away in Argentina. Apparently, when it comes to soul mates, coach class is enough to get the job done. Former Governor Elliot Spitzer, upon hearing this news, remarked that at least he never paid that much for one roll in the hay. To be fair, Spitzer was only partaking of the domestic fare. Sanford's tastes run more toward the intercontinental.


Anyway, Senators Lindsey Graham, Jim Demint and the rest of the religiously damaged Conservatives of South Carolina are praying for a reconciliation between Governor Sanford and his wife of 20 years. They are also praying that Lt. Governor Andre Bauer does not become the new governor. Even if God came from a red state, this would be a tall order. Comments like " I can die knowing I met my soul mate" would only be helpful if the Governor were talking about his wife. He wasn't. Mrs. Sanford, AKA, the dutiful wife, is sequestered on Sullivan Island in South Carolina, presumably plotting to ensure that her soon-to-be-former husband couldn't be elected secretary of the Aiken Little League Association. She has been quoted as saying she might be able to forgive her chronically wayward husband. This will presumably coincide with the freezing over of either hell or Buenos Aires.