THE MICHELINIE UNBLOG

or

 I AM NOT MIKE

During my long career as a professional writer I’ve occasionally been accused by unkind critics of being clueless. Mostly untrue. However, in this case I’d have to agree with them. When Mike Kalibabky gave up his “Mike’s Monthly Missives” column, Bob asked me if I’d take over and fill that space on his web site. My reaction was, “Fill it with what?” Bob answered, “Why, with whatever you want! Shout out your opinions, your viewpoints, your raves and rants!” Obviously, though we’ve been friends for over thirty years, Bob really doesn’t know me very well. I have few opinions, my viewpoint is razor blade narrow, and I almost never have the energy for a rave or a rant, let alone both. When you break me down to my component parts, I’m basically a human lump who sits at a computer and makes up stuff for money. And who wants to read about that? (Hell, not me!) But Bob kept asking, then pleading, then...well, I don’t want to embarrass the lord of the site with too much detail, but let’s just say that it pains me deeply to see a grown man cry.

So, here I am. At least for this month. Where I’ll be next month is anybody’s guess. (Bermuda would be nice, but that would require leaving home and the real world frightens me.) The problem now is: what next? Mike asked Bob questions and talked about Bob’s many accomplishments and upcoming triumphs. Bleh. Who cares? (Uh, Bob never actually reads these things before he publishes them, right? Whew.) But I guess I should write something that has at least a peripheral reference to Bob, while at the same time spotlighting what’s truly important in life: me! (Heh, heh...)

With that goal in mind, I put on my thinking cap and went to work. I had a bit of a scare when I smelled something smoldering and thought the cap might be shorting out, but then realized it was only the dust that had accumulated on my brain these past few years burning off. Eventually, and to my great relief, I was struck by inspiration. (It was either that or a mild aneurism; you be the judge.) When Bob and Jill were married a decade or so ago, I was genuinely flattered to be asked to serve as Bob’s best man. And one of the duties of that illustrious position is to make a speech at the festivities following the ceremony. Being one to eschew the serious whenever possible, I instead wrote an epic limerick which I was then going to solemnly intone from the podium in my best James Earl Jones. But as luck would have it, due to a miscommunication, I never had the chance to read that poem. So here it is, for the first (and surely last) time offered for public consumption. Envision if you will the year 1997, a beautiful bride, a hunky groom, a hungry writer wondering if there’s any shrimp cocktail left...

TO BOB AND JILL ON THEIR SPECIAL DAY

 There once was a young man from Indy

 Whose lifestyle was both slick and trendy.

He lived in New York,

Where he’d play and he’d work

‘Til one day he said, “It’s the end...ee!”

He realized he was unhappy,

And without sounding maudlin or sappy,

Decided, “That’s it!

 “I’m leaving--I quit!

 “Working for dorks is too crappy.”

 “Big city life is so hollow;

 My heart is what I must follow.”

 So southward he’d scoot

And there plant some roots

On the beach that folks call “Apollo”.

He’d marry the fair young Jillian,

A lass who was one in a million.

They’d wed on a boat

 With people of note,

And a best man just slightly gorillian.

Their past lives had been somewhat scattered,

All jumbled and shaky and tattered.

 But once that they met

 It was quite a sure bet

 Each other was really what mattered.

 Replacing their sadness with laughter,

Rejecting each doubter and shafter,

Both fair and foul weather,

They’d now face together.

And live happily (of course) ever after.