First there was a Man. Then a Woman. Then in quick succession, two cats, a confused dog beast, and two kids. I stay at home with them. I'm the Man

Friday, November 13, 2009

Closet Full of Skeletons

I can't help myself.  

I know I shouldn't.  It just draws me in.  He, just draws me in and I have to go to him.  No matter how my wife or family or anyone else feels about it.  It's wrong.  So wrong.  So dirty.  That's part of what I like.  I throw off my shame and run towards him.  His music at least.  I love Bobby Brown.  

Ever since New Edition.  Even more so when he went solo.  A lone wolf with a beautiful howl.  A howl with a message of music.

My father is a jazz musician.  He doesn't even know.  Never came out to him.  Parents are always the last to know.  

From the outside, you could never tell.  I've always been a bit of a music snob.  Especially when I was younger and I could shop for music or go out to see bands live.  Miles Davis, Beastie Boys, Smashing Pumpkins, Buddy Rich, Dizzy Gillespie, Guns n Roses, KRS-One, Tribe called Quest, The Breeders.  Even if what I was listening to wasn't the best, or most esoteric, or newest, it was always cool, or hip enough, or important musically.  Except for him.  Bobby Brown.   Misunderstood troubadour of the heart.

I think it's horrible what he did to Whitney, but when the hopeful adolescent love of Every Little Step I Take fills the room, I forget about the Bad Bobby, and I sing.  

The Poetry of one Robert Beresford Brown:

I can't sleep at night, I toss and turn
Listen for the telephone
And when I get your call, I'm all choked up
Can't believe you called my home
And as a matter of fact, it blows my mind
you would even talk to me
because a girl like you is a dream come true
A real life faaantaseee

Its like that, it's like that guurrrrl

Every little step I take, you will be there
Every little move I make, we'll be togetheerrr.

I just typed every one of those lyrics from memory.  If you google it you'll find I'm not far off.

My wife just handles it by sweeping it under the rug.  She pretends like I am the normal, healthy man I seem to be to everyone else.  I don't blame her.  Some perversions are best left in the dark, hiding in shadows.  Under a rock.  But now, I have chased the shadows away and let the light of day shine in.  I love Bobby Brown and I don't care who knows it.  I even like the theme from Ghost Busters 2.  On Our Own.  Aren't we all, Bobby?  Aren't we all?

Thank Christ this blog is anonymous.  

Let me close with his words.  Words of simplicity.  Words of truth.

And if you find the tenderoni that is right for you
Make it official
Give her your luuhhh-uh-uhve.

                                                    Courtesy of Jerk Magazine Blog


Homemaker Man

P.S.  This is a recycled post.  When I wrote it, there were very few people reading.  I figured, "How can one air one's dirty laundry if there is no one there to smell it?"  One can't.  So, take a big whiff everyone, of my soul laid bare.  Smells like crack and failure.  Oh, Bobby.


  1. I was at the store tonight when one of the guys who runs their beer club thing there approached me with a complimentary wristband. Thing is, I was there with Thing 1, 4, 5, and 6. Which I pointed out, but, he dismissed my protest with a wave of hand, and suggested they eat dinner while I at least try a wine or two. Fine. Twist my arm. It isn't like, "class, I never knew you..." hasn't been my problem for a long while now.

    So, I did just that. Tried 2 wines and forgot my senses. The musician played a Neil Young song complete with harmonica, I clapped and indeed admitted that I knew both title and artist. Then was made to feel about 10 kinds of *old* by a half dozen people who kept muttering, "yeah, before my time."

    To bring this comment full circle, if it had been Bobby Brown, at least a couple of those people would have heard of him. I think so at least, or maybe I just AM that old.

  2. Viv- 2 things. One, I've got to get to the Whole Foods more. I did not know they partied like that. I usually go to Trader Joe's or get tge organics my local supermarket offers.

    Two-Whether the young folks know it or not, Neil Young is a legend. The ony readon they've heard of Bobby Brown is because he got Whitney addicted to crack and then beat the hell out of her.

    I can't quite see Neil Young going that route. Maybe I could see him getting her stoned on pot and playing an intense game of "I'm Not Touching You." At the most

  3. In 1st grade I took Neil Young's "Needle and the Damage Done" in for my musical show and tell day. I got in SO much trouble. At least after my mom came to talk to the teacher and I very nicely thanked her for admiring my mother's necklace, but, felt the need to explain that it was really just her roach clip that she wore on a chain.

    I also love, LOVE, love Jackson Browne, whose past isn't much prettier than Bobby Brown's.

    If your Whole Foods is anything like mine, you guys really should check it out. It is usually lots of fun. I love Trader Joe's too, but, we don't have one around here.

  4. Viv, I have a similar story, only it was my mother's gold coke spoon that I wore for 3rd grade school pictures. Ahhh, memories...

    And Jackson Browne and Bobby Brown aren't even on the planet. You and I both know that you're just being kind, but he's too hard-headed to admit that you are an exceptionally charitable person.

    I'm sorry to have to do this to you, but if you don't stop encouraging him, I'm going to send him to your house to sing "My Prerogative" at the top of his lungs in your shower. ;-)

    the wife

    P.S. While I despise Bobby Brown, my husband actually has a very nice voice. So my threat, while sounding terribly menacing, actually has no teeth. Also don't tell him, but his Tenderoni still makes my knees a little weak.


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