What killed Whitney Houston has been the lead story on most “news” programs for the past four days. And now there just might be a criminal investigation. I don’t believe that you need to be a coroner, toxicologist, or crime scene investigator to understand the cause of death. Marriage to Bobby Brown, self-indulgence, fame, a failed reality show, and the effects of cocaine addiction would be the most obvious theories. And just in case you are concerned about whether Bobby Brown will be attending the funeral or what the future is for Bobbi Kristina, your favorite news program promises to keep you updated. I guess it has been a slow week for actual news
I TIVOed 60 minutes on Sunday and got an hour of the Grammys instead. I was happy to see Adele take home several awards. After seeing so much blue hair, gimmicky performances, unnecessary cleavage, and bizarre outfits, I was happy to see that occasionally we still recognize actual talent.
I called last week to make an appointment for my yearly exam, and the receptionist told me that there were plenty of openings on the 14th. I guess most women felt that seeing their gynecologist on Valentine’s Day would ruin the romance of the day. I was just happy to get my choice of appointment times without waiting for weeks to be seen. After taking my weight and blood pressure, the young nurse asked about my cycle and what birth control I was using. “What makes you think that I don’t want to get pregnant?” was my response. Even after telling her it was a joke, she didn’t laugh. Maybe my children are right and I am not funny, or quite possibly the world has lost its sense of humor.