Wednesday, March 17, 2010

i just met donnie osmond's brother at the DFW airport

I got a text message from my friend, Buzz, and that title above is the complete transmission. There are any number of questions that arise from such a text.

First, was he walking through the airport, eyes up and alert to celebs, when he said to himself, “Why, I think that’s Donnie Osmond’s brother”? Or, did he think to himself, “My, my, what a massive set of smiley teeth. I wonder if that man is famous.” Under either of these situation, in order to determine who this might be, you’d have to approach him and query his lot in life (unless he’s just bullshitting me). With the former thought in your head, the answer from the “Osmond” would probably be, “Hey, yeah, I’m Alan Osmond, Donnie’s brother, nice to meet you”; or, “I’m only Donnie Osmond’s brother. Leave me alone.” Not likely. If the latter is the issue and you said, “Hey, are you famous?” He would have said something like “Sure am. I’m Alan Osmond. Nice to meet you. Who are you and why don’t you leave me alone.” Somehow, if any of these vignettes came to pass they were immediately translated, and transmitted to me, as “meeting Donnie’s Osmond’s brother.” What I also question is this: if he had told me that he’d met Jebediah Osmond at the airport did he think I wouldn’t be able to figure out that it was an Osmond brother? Did I really need the Donnie reference? Why couldn’t he be referred to as Marie Osmond’s brother? What about Jimmy Osmond’s brother? Wait, did he meet Jimmy Osmond? Granted, I can only rattle off Alan, Donnie, Marie, and Jimmy but that’s at least half of the clan, right? I have some Osmond skills. Speaking of which…

In my elementary school days I was a much bigger Donnie Osmond fan than Michael Jackson fan; though I did have three-ring binders with both on the cover. But I should also admit that I always felt that One Bad Apple, which I had on 45rpm and danced to all over my room, was much more Jackson 5-like than it was Osmond-like; sort of hard to tell the difference when you listen to it (apparently it was originally written for the Jackson 5). Well, take a listen…and a watch:

Those are some sweet moves and hot jumpsuits; channeling a later kung-fu Elvis. You might think that a white kid growing up in the flat Midwest would dream of being up on stage in a white, sequined jumpsuit and having the babies scream from beyond the stage. But, in my case, that wasn’t who I wanted to be in the early 1970s. Who I wanted to be, no question, was a Pip – plain-and-simple. I also had Midnight Train… on 45rpm and I remember watching Gladys and Pips on various variety shows when that wax was hot – mesmerized. There is nothing in this world cooler than being a Pip.

“I know you will…wooh wooh…”
(spin, step, slide, spin)

I’ll spare you the He Ain’t Heavy Osmond video. Man, I loved the Osmonds back then..


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