Not too long ago, I was checking out the inside headlines in the Times.  I was avoiding the front page in deference to my blood pressure.  I found a couple of pieces that caught my attention for one reason or another.

The first one was about Patrick Stewart who was in a David Mamet play on Broadway.  I have always been a fan of Stewart’s work.  OK, I’ll admit it – I never saw much of him before the “Trek” series.  I did see him the other night in a thing where he played a retired spy-agent, of some kind, afflicted with some beginning symptoms of Alzheimer’s.  Disturbing.  And not all that good.  It was the piece itself.  Not a good vehicle, as they say, for his talent.  But it was the Mamet part on stage that caught my attention.  Mamet’s stuff is really good and gutsy, and I was once in Mamet’s The Duck Variations.  What I remember most about being in that play was that I could easily button on a size 34 pair of Levis.  Alas, that enviable waistline was about as lasting as my rise to stardom.

The other headline that caught my attention had to do with one of those barely post pubescent female singers, whose name, I’m sorry to say, I can not recall, with pouty lips and hair down to the crack of her ass, hugging a guitar in the oh so bright lights.  I’m sorry, but what’s going on here?  The person writing the article was trying to sound critical but it was just another booster piece that couldn’t have been done better by a fan club president.

The big “news” it seems was that she had written a steamy song about being abused by some guy, of course.  What else?  Let’s see – how old is this maven of life lessons?  20 and counting. The best I can say is that in the next 20 years she will come to believe that the first 20 were like summer camp, and lie in her midnight bed clutching her satin pillow pining for those good old days. 

The more astute among you will say, “Hey, Bozo, she is just another actor up on the stage like you, those many years ago. Give her some slack”.  Groan!  You’re right.  OK, I’ll give you that.  I was just having an opinion break.  I’m all better now. 

There are days when I should not read the paper.  I guess this should have been one of those days.

I did, however, have a kind of connection with the David Mamet – Patrick Stewart thing, and I did have a guitar once and even hair – but only to my shoulders.  I guess that was it.  I was off looking for myself somewhere else – again.

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