Don't cry for Verbal Jazz

What's the matter, you've never seen a grown man limp while wearing tights in front of the lumberyard? Yes, if you happened to be driving by Butler Lumber in Maynard, MA on Saturday, you would have seen Verbal Jazz slip on a piece of ice and twist his ankle then get up and limp the whole half-mile home. As for the tights, they were the running variety designed to give me flexibility and comfort, while completely emasculating me. Given Governor Romney's new anti-gay-stem-cell crusade we may soon see legislation passed that would outlaw exercise clothing that calls into question one's gender or sexual preference.

I then managed to watch the entire Academy Award telecast with an elevated leg. I learned that it is possible for Carlos Santana and Antonio Banderas to both ruin a song, that Sean Penn is hoping to fill in on Jude Law's promotional tours and that Beyoncee could conceivably sing the National Anthem at every baseball stadium on Opening Day.

Fresh from the giddiness of being thanked by Hilary Swank, on Monday Verbal Jazz limped into the office of his boss and promptly gave three weeks notice...without the benefit of a backup plan other than website revenues and my soon to be lottery winnings. Suddenly, a weight was lifted off of his shoulders and now Verbal Jazz can live off the street value of found objects.

But don't cry for me. Just read Verbal Jazz.

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