Another Monday, Proof of God, and Screech's dilemma

Nestle to buy Jenny Craig for $600 million
(I don't know whether to laugh or cry on that one; is that an example of "conflict of interest" or a “love/hate relationship”?)

Bishop chosen 1st female Episcopal leader
(I'm sure this will give Ann "Coldheart" fodder in that mess of words she calls a column, but personally, I'm a happy puppy. Sisters definitely do it for themselves...)







Depp says he just likes living in France
(As much as I like Johnny Depp, could someone please advise why this is a news item?)










Well, I got through Father’s Day. I think all my angst came out early so I could get through the actual holiday unscathed, for which I’m grateful. D deserves more on a weekend than me bawling and crying my eyes out. Sigh…

I was feeling sad and missing Dad a lot last week, and it was pretty tough. On Friday night, I think I experienced something that I’m hoping was a sign from God. At the Washington Grove gig (which was a dance for their ballroom dancing club), there was a man there that FROM THE NECK DOWN made me think of dad. Between the clothes he wore, his general build, and the way he moved when he was dancing, I swore my old Daddy was back.

I was trying to contain myself, but finally I couldn’t stand it any longer. I went up to the couple and told the man that he reminded me so much of my late father I had to tell him so. Then, in true Sudiegirl fashion, I started to cry. He hugged me, and it felt like Daddy’s hug. Oh man.

That coincidence proved to me that God really is around when you least expect Him.

Well, enough of my epiphany, there…let’s look around at this big ol’ world, shall we?

From the “Screech in dire straits” files, Dustin “Screech” Diamond (of “Saved by the Bell” fame) is selling t-shirts at $15 a pop ($20 if autographed) in order to avoid foreclosure. His sales goal is 30,000 of the suckers. If there was ever a testament as to how far MY desperation for a mate would stop, it would be SCREECH. I know Screech was a character, but something tells me that Dustin didn’t have to draw too far outside his own psyche to get inspiration.

Here’s my question, though – why didn’t he hit up his “Saved by the Bell” buddies?

Could you imagine the scenario? (For the imagination impaired, let me set the scene…)

Fade to a lone figure in a really hideous print shirt, walking along a lonely sidewalk on a foggy morning.

Sounds emanate from this figure not unlike that of a Canadian goose during molting season, but alas, those misplaced honks come from a man-child.

A man who has yet to grow into his nose.

A man who, in another life, might have been a career counter clerk at Radio Shack or your local comic book store.

He slouches and shuffles along sidewalks in Beverly Hills or Bel Air, hoping for a glimpse of the good life he once hoped for. He remembers good times lounging by Todd Bridges’ pool before it was sold to a coke dealer. He remembers almost scoring with one of the “Full House” girls…or was it Dave Coulier? The memories of that night were fuzzy.

That online search he did for Mark-Paul Gosselaar paid off, even though he had to sell some of his Star Wars figurines to pay for it. (Thank God his Mom wasn’t home…he would’ve been grounded for sure.)

Screech (or as he likes to call himself at collectibles shows, “the Screech-Man”) finds Mark’s house (pretty plush, Zach!) and tentatively makes his way through the yard. His Vans sneakers squish through the wet grass as he lopes toward the front door of Mark’s lavish home.

Screech knocks once, tentatively. It’s a wonder he makes it to the door…he trips over two newspapers, a sprinkler head, and Dennis Franz on the way.

No answer.

He knocks again, a little more insistently, bruising his knuckles in the process. He whines quietly and sucks on them to relieve the pain. He only succeeds in looking like a five-year-old.

He finally leaves a note, using a pencil stub and a 7-ll receipt:

Dear Zach (or is it Mark? I never can remember):

Hey bud! Remember me? Ugly shirts? I wore braces for 10 years? Well, anyway, I was in the neighborhood and wanted to know if I could borrow $15K…my dog ate my mortgage payment.

Don’t tell Mr. Belding, or I’ll be in detention for sure. Again.

Thanks!
Screech

PS: How’s Kelly?

The slouching figure travels on, looking for someone – ANYONE - from his happy youth – to help him in his hour of need.

Anyway, enough of Screech for today. Maybe tomorrow he’ll show up at Slater’s house? Who knows?

I’m sure it’ll be an interesting trip, wherever he winds up.

Just don’t tell him where I live.

Sudiegirl

PS: If you really want to get the shirts, go to http://www.getdshirts.com.