Clay Bait

You live, you learn. Last week I said some terrible things about Her Holiness Clay Aiken, and already I've learned so much it shames the meager education I once thought so important. During the night, my e-mail inbox was visited by several apparitions who melted my frozen heart and renewed my Christmas spirit. Some of the information they had to impart was general trivia that will come in handy should I ever run into some highfalutin music scholar (i.e., the lyrics to "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" as sung by Judy Garland when she introduced the song in 1944's Meet Me in St. Louis were, in fact, the wrong ones, due to the fact that she was a drunk). But most of what was shared by these beings of goodness and light has given me a way of looking at the world that I never thought possible back in the days when I was foul-tempered and full of rage. So, in the tenor of the season's giving, here are the Top 20 Things I've Learned About Clay Aiken, and Myself, Thanks to His Fans Everywhere:

Clay would want me to be happy, because when you're happy, you want everybody around you to be happy.

I am a very unhappy man.

Clay's handprints raised $15,099 for Ronald McDonald House Charities.

My derelict opinion will soon become trash in homes across the state.

Clay can hold a note beautifully, like, forever.

I am a slush mouth.

Clay's sister committed suicide.

I have never been touched by the tragedy of suicide.

Clay is a genuine, caring human being who's trying to make a difference in this dark world.

Scrooge has found a soulmate in me.

Clay's unthreatening stance is precisely what is so deliriously hot and sexy about him.

I am a little homo loser.

If Clay ever runs into me, he will probably cut me down to size with his quick wit and sarcasm.

I am sitting on my eyes, ears, and brain.

Clay will look globally to help bring awareness about people with disabilities to developing countries.

I will never amount to anything.

Clay can funk to R&B so well that I would be quite astounded.

I am not worthy of spit-shining Clay's shoes.

Clay sold out the state fair in Raleigh, N.C., in nine minutes.

I am doomed to a joyless and hopeless existence if my present mental state continues.

Oh, thank you, spirits, thank you! And a merry, merry Christmas to us all!

swiecking@seattleweekly.com

 
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