For Adam

To: Adam Lambert

FROM: America

RE: Your Shtick

Dear Adam,

Like a shiny new toy at Christmas we couldn’t wait to wind you up and watch you go. Time after time, week after week, you didn’t disappoint. Amazing really. Thank you for that. Highly entertaining.

If anyone in the country is in need of casting a rock opera, you, sir, will be the first one called. I promise. If we’re putting together a legends of rock tribute band to tour the country, again, you’ve got the nod. If we simply want to amaze our friends by watching you hit high notes and shatter glass, you’re the man.

But like too much of Aunt Mildred’s divinity candy, or 15 seconds of Rush Limbaugh and Keith Olbermann, I believe a change is in order lest we all start to vomit uncontrollably. Not certain we as a nation can handle a CD with 13 tracks of your incredible screeching and howling.

So, as a nation, we implore you to show a little depth, a different side to your amazing talent. Stand still, sing from somewhere other than the prancing rocker buried within you, and promise to never, ever wear a white suit again. Ever.

Signed,

An increasingly bored, but jealous of your talent nation

P.S. We weren’t kidding about the white suit. Never again.

Hype

Got a call today from a friend. She works in a medical supply business. She told me that she acted early, bought masks in bulk, and still has a case or two if we need them here. She'll sell them to me at cost.

Masks for swine flu protection.

Local pharmacies are running out, medical stores can't get them fast enough, some are price gouging. The sky is apparently falling.

The end is nigh upon us. Stockpile food, load your guns, board your windows, write your wills.

As if...

Vacation Update

On the list of jobs I'm glad I don't have right now, Mexico's Minister of Travel & Tourism would rank near the top. Kidnappings and Swine Flu have travel warnings coming in from everywhere. Seriously, can you imagine?

When asked in a recent interview about the state of Mexico's tourism economy, Minister of Travel and Tourism, Juan Jose Xtapa Maria Cordova Snoticus Venezuela Home Depotita Tegucigulpa Gonzales opined "Mexico is a fine, fine place to visit.  I feel safe anywhere in this beautiful country."

Although his use of a Class I Haz-Mat suit, a peasant from the hill country hired to constantly hose him down with Purel, his insistence that no reporter get within 25 feet from him and then speak to him only through an alcohol soaked cheese cloth, and his security detail composed of 63 mercenaries from Blackwell, two fully armed Apache gunships on loan from the Alabama Air National Guard, six bullet proof, heavily armored SUV's, a World War II vintage Russian T-72 tank, and the three steamer trunks full of bribe money, err I mean incentive funds, that two aides were busy passing out fist over fist to local hostiles might call the sincerity of his comments into question.

   

Potty Patrol

Our company is instituting a new drug policy. Everyone is subject to testing, not just new employees. Oh my. Nervous days for some around here.

“Um, what drugs are they testing for?”

“Brother, if you have to ask…..”

“When are they going to do the testing?”

“Brother, if you have to ask….”

Pretty sure we’ll have to explain to a couple of boys that this isn’t like their senior year of high school when they weren’t allowed back on school grounds cause of some continuing court order issues. They can’t take this test on-line.

Personally, I welcome the testing. Post my results on the big board out in the shop for all I care.

“Subject 03241’s pee is full of joy and happiness with trace amounts of respectability. When placed on the slide prior to going under the scope, the sample instantaneously formed into the shape of a smiley face. Remarkable.”

Maybe I’ll have a Talladega Nights moment: “Subject 03241’s pee was collected in the morning and subsequently found to be full of excellence.”

That’s right. Unless they’re testing for Reese’s peanut butter cups, Doritos, or diet Dr. Pepper, ain’t no shame in my game.

Just Above The Knees

Knees…they’re a death row inmate getting the allotted one hour of yard time, stepping out of the cell and into the sun.

Ankles…confused and happy by the whoosh, the slobbery dog half out the window of a speeding car.

Babies run away, mothers scream, grown men weep openly, sirens wail.

Yes people, I am in the short pants today.

Meaness Quotient

Seven kids at soccer practice. Before the hour is over, four end up crying.

One because a young man was told three times to "quit that and pay attention." I used a rather emphatic tone and clear, concise dialog on the fourth time that yielded tears. Buckets of them.

The other three to injuries: one kicked foot, one tweaked ankle, and one ball to the face.

That's a 57% cry ratio, and it's not like we were scrimmaging the Missouri Department of Correction's varsity squad or anything. It's just practice.

That's my best work to date. Really proud.

Breaking the 60% mark was my goal and we're pretty early in the season. I can smell the Coach's Hall of Fame from here. Better get started on my acceptance speech.

Avoidance & Resistance Training

It's simply not OK for you to go to your spin class, swim laps, or to hit the weights and let your elementary age kids run amok in the fitness center. It's not OK.

There were at least ten little ones dorking around on the track last night. One of them thought it would be funny to race me on the straightaways. That was enjoyable.

Although, it was quite a workout jogging while dodging kids every thirty seconds or so. It added a little different twist to the normal cardiovascular routine. It was a mental exercise as well. After a while, it took all of my mental energy to resist the temptation to play linebacker and start running through the knuckleheads in my way versus running around them.

People, mind your babies and keep them out of the fat, angry guy's way.