Some brief glimpse that seemed somehow familiar but could not have been....typical blaring bombardment of belittling information as I was either rushing or sashaying through....

 

It was a photograph of a casually dressed Caucasian woman - hair back in soccer mom wisps, hard worn jeans in an airport rush but with a peculiar glare from many camera flashes.  Well, then....so many cameras, this must be important.  I could see the young woman carrying a child beneath a big hooded jacket.  The face of the baby/toddler was at high alarm and actually close to terror.  I read further that said infant was someone Madonna simply had to have.

 

Then, as my reading is not as deep or varied as it once was, I lost track of what seemed, beneath my usual cardboard sentience, to be a travesty of sorts.   Suddenly, the living father of this supposed orphan, spoke on behalf of Madonna.   I can't recall the exact text but basically he hoped that the child would visit in a few years and see what a poor town they had and help out.  I would be tickled and amazed to see this particular child a few years older and wanting to be anywhere that is not dark, private and quiet.  Hopefully, the life of a true Superstar has rest breaks from this sort of flashbulb chemo. 

 

I think Madonna and I are the same age.  I sure know that if you're gonna have Mama pangs in your life - especially if you are barren as I am and sorry I get a kick out of that word.  My apologies to those of you who have found your own infertility not a source of comedy.  Truly, there might be a crack in my little comedy wall.  If I felt ready to judge - and how easily and mindlessly one can slip into that beam of darkness when confronted by the seeming millions of celebrities.  Judgment.  It must be what is the breakfast of not quite champions....

 

But dammit, you just don't go find an adorable tribal orphan whose living parent cannot afford to feed him/her and take it back to Kensington.  Aren't there deals covering this in Dante?  This is a Telephone Game at high voltage. 

 

Again, a harsh aside in it all....It is a snap to reckon that Madonna's youngest nanny on the roster didn't make twice what her new baby's entire village has ever SEEN.  I could give sugar to babies all day if someone else did the grueling - and yet sacred - drudgery like feeding, washing, shhhing for naps, etc.  That's as much of Mommyhood as owning, eh?  When I recall how seldom my own Mother lost it with us, it's amazing.  She had five kids and raised us alone - with the help of her parents, dear "Memaw and Gene-Gene".  We hit rough patches that came from hurricanes, new daddies, varied substances in bottles and just that good old southern livin and dyin'. 

 

If Madonna had been my Mommy, I am pretty sure there's no way I could've sat still for all that corn-row business.   Plus, what if my cuteness faded?  Would I end up like a Paris Hilton canine?  That poor little Tinkerbelle.  Po lil kind of cyborg miserable showpiece Chihuahua who's probably dearly loved by the dark angels who sent him to this life.  Karma in full?

 

In 'real' news....we finished the series that will air on CBS.  Did the DVD about 'Southern Belles of Comedy" and a thing here or there.

 

The big slippery oily part of the pizza pie's in the middle before you slice it.  I'd take napkins in NYC and just take off the top layer of gunk and have the best cheese slice on earth.  Well, I found that nearing fifty's like that, too.  And on very good days, that gunk turns out to be useful!  (The gals on 'The View' promise that Meredith Viera will send me the hints in my next Christmas package.)

 

This began with intention.  But then, seeing clues that I was about to expound on dangerously serious subjects about which I have heard nothing from the persons involved , I tried to change the subject.

 

But I do want to encourage 'kids'.  Not like Oprah and I am not dissing what she does for kids.  (Does she travel and pick them up like spoons of the states, too?)   I want to tell them that what they worry about the most - how they look, who thinks they're cool, who's in/out, etc.  will STILL MATTER when they're old but they'll just have a sixteenth of the pissyness about it all.  By then, all colors from Nordic beige to Somalian Rose should've invaded your chakras and actual light will be seen emanating from your body.  Katie Holmes' future pales in comparison. 

 

BE the Borealis.  Send pics.  God bless.

 

 

 

I know there are millions of kids who won't be alive next year because of not enough water, disease, genocide and perhaps playing too closely with Paris Hilton.