Week in Review

This has been a trying week. First of all, Tom Cruise not only wants to steal my psychotropic drugs, but my thunder as well. It is hard enough to share my birthday with the largest football rivalry in the state. Do you know how many people leave town to watch the game so that many years my celebration turns into 3 people sitting around a table in a nearly empty bar? Sure, someone usually thinks to bring a party hat, but that hardly makes up for the disparity in the crowd. And, now, TomKat has decided to get married on my birthday. Not only are our guest lists totally going to overlap, but for the rest of my life, I'll have to know that, not only am I aging, but also, somewhere in a Scientology compound far, far away, there's a strange anniversary celebration going on that probably involves the following exchange: "I love you for allowing yourself to be brainwashed into a fake religion and actually thinking I'm not gay." "I love you, too. Now, where's that tea I'm always drinking that makes me happy on the inside and insures how much I love watching kids play soccer?" And, then, someone I care for deeply was viciously attacked. Why did you have to pick on Michael, Rush? Why? Other than what I am sure are your flagging ratings, why? I have to let you know that Michael J. Fox was my first love. I adored him as Alex P. Keaton on "Family Ties." I once saw Courtney Cox in the County Seat jeans store at our local mall, and I totally freaked out because she got to be Alex P. Keaton's girlfriend. I cannot tell you how many times I have seen "Back to the Future." And, as a child, I even wanted to be able to hear dog whistles so that I would have something in common with "Teen Wolf." (Odd wish - I know.) When I played Barbies, my dolls were not interested in Ken, but rather someone named Michael. I was serious about our love. And, I cried when Michael J. Fox went public with his diagnosis of Parkinson's disease. I admire his strength and determination in a situation where a lot of people would succumb to self pity. So, Rush, you've made me mad before, but you've really gone too far this time. Your next beef with Michael, you come looking for me. Mama don't like it when you go after her babies.