Donny Osmond is My American Idol

My mom’s little neighbor saw DH at one of our restaurants the other day. She tugged at her mother’s arm and said, “I know that guy from somewhere.” While pointing to DH, the 5-year old brunette continued, “I think he’s on American Idol.”

Well, in case you did not already know, DH is not nor has he ever been on American Idol. In fact he is not famous at all. No one in our family is famous. Infamous? Yeah, there’s a couple, but not famous. And we live in Utah so we rarely get to see famous people. Oh, I know Robert Redford supposedly lives 8 miles down the road from me. And while I’ve been to his resort many, many times for dinners, concerts, and parties, I have disappointingly never even caught a glimpse of his shoelace.

So I was caught completely off guard the other day when D2’s neighbor friend was talking about her other friend with a famous uncle. I questioned the neighbor friend and asked, “What is he famous for?” “I guess he’s a really good singer. But I don’t know ‘cause I’ve never heard him sing,” she diplomatically replied. “Hmmm,” I prodded, “But you’re sure he’s famous?” “My friend says her uncle is very famous,” she assured me. “His name is Donny Osmond,” then with a shoulder shrug and with both palms facing up, she looks directly at my stunned face, “I know, I’ve never heard of him either.”

Da….Wh….Ah….OH MY HECK!!!! I had no idea that D2’s friend was hangin’ at Donny Osmond’s niece's house! He’s not just famous, he’s dreamy. "Paper Roses", oh how I love paper roses. I never missed a single episode of Donny and Marie growing up. Of course the ultimate was his performance in Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, the DVD of which I own and watch in high definition on our 50” Sony purely for the astounding Biblical insight it provides.

It has been a couple days since D2’s friend broke me the news, but my stomach is still in knots. I’ve already decided I need to volunteer to be my neighbor girl’s full-time chauffeur for play dates and certainly all birthday parties. I’m thinking a birthday party at a famous person’s niece's house, would call for mandatory chaperoning, especially if the extended family is invited. And perhaps I could sneak off during Pin the Tail on the Donkey and see what old posters or purple socks are lurking in the basement. Oh, and my camera – I’ll definitely need that. Actually, maybe the Polaroid and a Sharpie, so Donny can autograph the birthday party photos. For D2’s friend, of course. Oooh, and I need some really good recording device so when he sings “Happy Birthday” I can capture the vocal and then I’ll sell it as an mp3 on iTunes. It is clear that I’ve got some planning to do.

You know, this is all really DH's fault. If only he had some kind of American Idol connection, I wouldn’t have to go to these great lengths just to stalk a celebrity.

We Learned Much Things

If you were to objectively review any given day, you may be surprised at how much you learn in a brief 24 hour period. You may find, as my privately schooled friend (as in 4 years at a private high school and 4 years at a prestigious private university) said just yesterday evening, “We learned much things.”

And he is right. We all have learned much things. I learned much new things on Friday alone. A few are listed below:

1. Sleep apnea machines, while they should not be a laughing matter, can provide an excellent source of merriment. If you ever require the use of one, don’t be shy. Try it on and wear it when you sleep or even when you read or watch television. Oh, and be sure to opt for the jock strap/mouth closure accessory as well. I understand that it is an extra $26 well spent.

2. While some may believe it to only be an old wives’ tale, it truly is illegal to deface money. By doing so you could incur a fine and a 6 month prison sentence. I confirmed this when researching the penalties D2 may face if caught by the feds. She received a two dollar bill from Grandma for Easter. But since all her siblings received one as well, she wanted to make sure, if hers was misplaced, no one else could claim it as their own. A fine and six months in the clanker - isn't that a harsher punishment than most first time-offender drug dealers face?

3. Dog food is “not good for you, but is also not toxic.” I learned this little nugget after calling Utah Poison Control. I called the emergency number because D3 considers keeping the dog bowl behind closed pantry doors a terrible inconvenience. At the tender age of 10 months she has learned to watch for the moment someone leaves the pantry door slightly ajar and seize the opportunity for some snack time.

It’s surprising to realize the knowledge all around you, just for the taking. So as you go through your day, be sure to take notice of the much things you learn too.

Busier Than a One Armed Paperhanger

My father-in-law George called Thursday evening and when I asked how he was, he replied, “Busier than a one armed paperhanger.” In case you’ve never heard this phrase before, which could be possible if you’ve never met my father-in-law, but definitely not possible if you have, let me explain.

This expression is thought to have originated in Mississippi. I don’t know if they have a high percentage of single limbed people employed in the wallcovering business in that state. Perhaps there was just one particularly notable appendage-missing member of the paperhanger's guild that started the idea. Either way, someone obviously found non politically correct humor in how incredibly overloaded this poor contractor was. And so a phrase was coined.

The paperhanger response is just one of many great "Georgisms", as I affectionately like to call them. In case you never get the opportunity to meet George in person, here is some of what you’ll be missing:

“Smells worse than the south end of north bound sheep.” This can be used to describe a variety of situations from babies waddling in bad diapers to dinner cooking on the stove.

“Look! A rose between two thorns.” At first glance, not too unusual until you realize he is almost always using it to describe himself while seated between two women.

“More nervous than a long tailed cat in a room full of rockin' chairs." Most often this is used to aptly describe upcoming doctor and dental appointments.

“My you’re looking beautiful today.” Actually, a seemingly nice compliment if you disregard that he most often conveys the sentiment first thing in the morning, when he is talking to you over the phone. On the mornings I get those phone calls, you can be sure that I am not looking very beautiful, but, I probably am busier than a one armed paperhanger.

My Albertsons Loves Me

Getting anything in the mail other than an account statement or credit card offer is rare. In our family, I've declared that all fake credit cards that appear in the mailbox belong to S2. He’s been collecting them for nearly two years and has a stack six inches tall. Don’t worry, I know what you’re thinking and yes, I will be selling the collection on eBay to pay for his college. D2 gets all the stickers. While they are not as prolific as the fake credit cards, they are understandably more fun. We will not be able to sell them on eBay though because they have been put to good use all over bedroom furniture, kitchen appliances, car windows and my unsuspecting back. Be certain, that while S1 and D1 do not have any designated mail benefits, I am not playing favorites. These continual gifts bestowed by the mail lady are small tokens of compensation S2 and D2 receive for being the middle, oft-ignored children.

Needless to say whenever I receive real mail I get a little tipsy with excitement. Like yesterday when Albertsons wrote me. The letter was very grand indeed. It began by [thanking me] for being one of [their] very best customers. You know, I do patronize Albertsons grocery store regularly, and I spend more in a month than most people spend on their mortgage. The letter makes a surprising assumption though as it is hoped that [I] will continue to choose Albertsons for all of [my] shopping needs. While it could be possible, do I really look like I buy my shoes, makeup, clothing and furniture at Albertsons along with my groceries? The letter goes on to suggest that if [I] have any special requests…Hmmm… I’m guessing they are referring to things like vallet parking or radio stations – do you think they’d crank up the volume and blare Dr. Laura? …or just need assistance…Uh oh, busted! They’ve obviously noticed how unruly it is when I bring S1-D3 to the store with me.... I shouldn’t hesitate to give [them] a call...or ask...next time I visit.

Now that is dandy! So incredibly dandy, in fact, the letter is almost perfect. If only it had included one of those fake credit cards. Or some stickers.

Back in the Olden Days Before Will Smith Made Movies

Tuesday evening D1 came upstairs excitedly telling me about a television program she had just watched. “It was a TV show," she began, “with Will Smith.” Then she further clarified, “Back in the olden days before he made movies, he made a TV show.” And in mistaking my shock-induced silence for ignorance, she continued, “It was called The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.”

So as I sit here pondering this, I’m uneasy. How could my otherwise bright 12-year-old not know about the olden days? The real olden days. The days when children would dip candles and churn butter for chores. Girls always wore dresses and boys all wore suspenders. You attended the one-room school house for learnin’, and attended to 'business' in the one-seat outhouse. Pa drove the horse and wagon while ma, with her hair in a constant bun, held the baby. Those, without question, were the olden days.

Will Smith’s legendary television show was still gracing the airways in 1995. I’ll admit back then Martha Stewart was an icon, not an ex-con. However, I can not sit quietly while anyone calls the year Sheryl Crow won a Grammy for Best New Artist the olden days. In the year of the remarkable Super Bowl win performance of the Steve Young led 49ers, 32 cents stamps dotted first class mail and dot com companies dotted Silicon Valley. It was also the year 150 million of us watched O. J. Simpson’s not guilty verdict being read. Bill Clinton was playing President while Newt Gingrich was remaking America. Seal was singing Kiss from a Rose, and Tom Hanks held us in suspense on his ill-fated space mission.

We all remember it like yesterday, because it practically was yesterday! In less than two years Will Smith went from a Philly teen in The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air to Agent J in Men in Black. But apparently those were a ground breaking two years, as we managed to shake from the shackles of the olden days to finally emerge into modern day. And luckily for D1 and her iPod, instant messaging, and cell phone, we pulled it off. Perhaps it was even more miraculous than Tom Hanks safely returning from his Apollo 13 mission.

Knees, Noses, Legs and Fums

On the way home from school last week S2 asked, “Mom, is it fum or thumb?” D2 quickly answered, rolling her eyes at the fact that she needs to answer such simple questions for her older brother, “It’s fum. Duh!”

Speaking of fums, for two weeks DH has been complaining of a tender one. The accident occurred during some old man city league basketball tournament. This was not the first time DH has come home injured from playing basketball.

Once he hurt his knee. It was an intense injury and he eventually had to have the knee scoped. Following the procedure, as I was wheeling him out of the surgical center, DH started puking in an apparent poor reaction to the anesthesia. I really don’t like puke, nevertheless, I decided to bring DH home anyway. He convalesced for a week on the couch where he was miserable, I was bored, and the pain medication gave him nightmares of the Grim Reaper.

Interestingly, many of DH’s basketball injuries have turned out to be less significant than he would lead me to initially believe. One leg affliction was allegedly so intense, he had to be carried home by two large men who took him straight into our bedroom. A physical therapist was even called for an emergency in-home treatment. Somehow the next day DH was miraculously walking without even so much as a hint of a limp. When we were college students, DH came home from a late night scrimmage with what he insisted was a broken nose. We woke up sleeping S1, climbed in the car and rushed to the ER. After paying our $50 co-pay, they played with DH’s nose, x-rayed it and sent us on our way. No broken nose, just a broken budget for the month.

So a couple weeks ago when DH complained of a sore fum, I knew it was probably just a jam or a sprain. Even the swelling and deepening purple tinge didn’t sway my diagnosis. He must have felt that it was not too serious either, because DH played in two basketball games following the initial trauma. Naturally, I did not feel the least bit guilty making him haul a refrigerator into one of my grandpa’s rental properties over the weekend.

Monday afternoon, however, when he could take no more discomfort, DH went to the InstaCare. One hour and 30 minutes later, he came home with proof of a broken bone. Sporting a great sympathy-attracting cast that can only be removed for showering, he's been gathering compassion from everyone. According to the doctor, it is necessary for proper healing so instead of a bum fum, DH will have a plumb fum. He is not supposed to wrap the ace bandage that surrounds the cast too tight or he could end up with a numb fum. Frankly, when I see the doctor bill I’m certain I’ll find his dumb fum to be sum fum. And, as soon as his ball buddies come a callin’ I suspect his chum fum will become a gamesome fum.

“A Verbal Contract Isn't Worth the Paper It's Written On” (Samuel Goldwyn)

This weekend D1 and Friend of D1 decided to play a game with S2 and Friend of S2. This is a game they have played before. It involves D1 and her friend owning and operating a business establishment, a.k.a. a restaurant, and S2 and his friend patronizing said restaurant. Sounds simple enough.

However, far too many times the game has run afoul. Allegedly, D1 and her friend have laboriously created a four-page printed and bound menu, set out the table cloth and candles, donned aprons and prepared gourmet omelets, only to have S2 and his accomplice, in an act of reckless abandonment, give up in hunger, grab a microwaved pizza, and in bad faith, without notice of cancellation, leave minutes before they were to be seated at Le Gamblet (the official name of the swanky French bistro that occasionally occupies my Orem, Utah kitchen).

When called upon to judge, I am forced to recuse myself due to personal conflicts (namely being parent to both defendant and accuser). When pressed for a verdict, I must side with the defendants as case law has shown that without a contract, the girls have no recourse to recover damages. And so, too often, the boys exit freely without being found legally liable for any wrong doing.

It was S2 and his friend’s idea to play the game this time. But D1 and her sidekick were cautious. So, they presented the boys with The Contract which was to ensure completion of the game, referred to hereafter as “FOLLOW THE RULES!!!!!!!” and a form of payment, referred to hereafter as “the Keychain”. Here it is, in its entirety, exactly as I found it Sunday afternoon:

CONTRACT
We agree to play a game with you that involves a restaurant. You can do whatever you want but Friend of S2 must give Friend of D1 the Keychain.


___________________ ____________________
Sign Here

Now D1 and her friend, as I mentioned, have been through this before and in addition to The Contract, also presented the boys with an addendum. It is as follows:

ADDENDUM
Now play talk will be involved. No laughing for any weird reason. FOLLOW THE RULES!!!!!!!


__________ _________
Initial Here

Surprisingly, both parties signed and initialed The Contract without seeking representation.

Happily, upon execution of The Contract neither party was found to be in breach of said contract at any time. The girls put on a fabulous meal, and the boys enjoyed their cheesy bacon omelets so much they even left a fifty-cent tip, along with said keychain.

Whether or not the girls will choose to adopt a set of bylaws for Le Gamblet and its future participants, is yet to be determined. However, if they don’t make it in the restaurant business, I’m confident they would do well to opt for law school.