Friday, December 03, 2004

Anna Nicole Smith as The Elephant Man

All right.

We had a big fat laugh last month when Anna Nicole Smith gave a speech at some award show. She was out of her lunatic mind. News outlets ran the footage ad nauseum. Grammatically-challenged anchors goofed on her mercilessly.

Which was so much more important than providing news viewers could actually use, like the platinum parachutes the boys at Merck will take in the wake of the Vioxx scandal, or the War in Iraq.

Well, local anchors just reported that ol' Anna was at it again last night at the VH1 Music Awards. Ha, ha, ha. Isn't that hysterical? This hot chick looked like she was gonna pull her top off. They had to yank her off the stage. Heelarious!

Question: Think it might be a good idea to get this woman the help she so obviously needs?

No!

Better to keep booking her on award shows. You never know what she'll do! Maybe she'll kill herself on live TV.

Imagine the publicity!

Washington Heights is Not in the Bronx

Thanks to my amazing neighbor, V, who picks crystalline leaves off frosty lawns and shows them to children at the bus stop, I was able to get the 9:11 to Grand Central and visit my mother at the hospital yesterday. V drove me to Bridgeport Station and agreed to get Child Two off the bus in the afternoon and keep her until I came home (Child One had plans to go directly to a friend's house after school).

At the hospital, the physical therapist had Mommy sitting in a chair; she was stronger than the day before, apparently. She sat there running her fingers through her hair, which cascaded to the floor in reddish clouds. For someone who would never even put out the garbage unless she was wearing lipstick, it didn't seem to bother her.

What interested me was that, in spite of her diminished appearance, I found her beautiful. I really didn't think I had it in me. I figured I'd be somewhat repulsed or that I'd at least pity her, but I didn't. She is still everything she was. Clearly, Dad feels the same way.

I visited her at her apartment shortly after her brain surgery in July. While she and Dad waited for the physical therapist to show up, I took a nap. When I woke up, they were sitting on the couch laughing. He was reading to her from a book by James Thurber.

I thought that was the most miraculous thing, to be sitting around in a bathrobe with staples in your head and being read to by a man who adores you. It contradicted everything I'd ever seen on TV and in the movies.

Speaking of TV, Mommy watched Law and Order on Wednesday night. In a scene where a man from Washington Heights learns that his daughter has been murdered, the screen flashed: WASHINGTON HEIGHTS, THE BRONX.

"Washington Heights is in Manhattan, and if you're going to do a show about New York, you should at least know that much," she snapped. "Really and truly!"

So she's still with it.

I had a lovely walk from the hospital to the subway. The weather was crisp but windless. I stopped in the Food Market in Grand Central and thought about buying cashews but decided to get a Balance Bar at the newsstand, where I arranged to meet Peter . We got the Express back home to Connecticut.