Hair colors come and go, but faces slide downward into creases and jowls you can never get out of. Getting old stinks. That’s why God gives wisdom with age. Young people may have the looks but we’ve got the brains. Some of us anyway.
Of course, if you’re a celebrity your face may never sag. It will stretch tightly up and across with a severely pained look that erases all wrinkles but scares the living daylights out of small children and dogs.
Which brings me to the news of the week—Michael Jackson and his recent Elvis Presley impersonation. The self-proclaimed King of Pop died of drugs, heart-attack, plastic surgery, anorexia…who knows? He was a talented, mega-rich musician, but he couldn’t keep a lid on the insanity bug that bit him daily. He was weird in so many ways. Creepy weird. And yet his fans mourn him like he was Elvis’ son-in-law or something. Go figure. In Iowa they are serving up the King of Pop in butter. In spite of his flawed and insane personal life, State Fair officials decided an effigy of Michael Jackson sculpted in butter would set things right. Well, he’s been black, he’s been white, and now he’s butter.
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I agree completely. I am still trying to figure out why these ‘humans’ are lifted up above everyone else because they are able to move their hips in a different/strange way or they are able to get thousands of people to scream when they open their mouths. I can do some interesting things as well, however, no one ever screams at me–unless my children are in the room. Society seems to have a distorted view of itself and no one seems to notice. Earthlings are so strange.