Come Over to the Dark Side

I am a terrible mother. Not only has my bronchitis evolved into some unknown virus, I have passed it onto my little Hurricane. Now she, too, is hacking away and has started to lose her voice. In the comment section, Manny perceptively sugggested that we should downgrade Haddie to a tropical storm until she gets better.

I’ve been sitting here looking at Jamie’s autographed hockey puck. I’ve never understood the whole autograph/star craze. I mean, what do people actually do when they get someone’s autograph? Frame it? Sell it?

I’ve had a few brushes with fame but my most memorable was at the New York airport. I was in a long line waiting to board when I overheard the two men behind me, “Yeah, I think that’s him….I really think that’s him!” I turned to see who they were ogling at. Lo-and-behold, it was Mr. Star Wars himself, James Earl Jones, waiting to board a neighboring flight to Toronto.

The men were as star-struck as a couple of giddy school girls. Not wanting to humiliate themselves, they attempted to embarrass their posterity,two unsuspecting 11-year-old boys. After much prodding, pleading, and bribery the boys finally agreed. The deal was they had to go over to James Earl Jones and in their most Darth Vader-esque voice, tell him to “Come over to the Dark Side.”

By now, we were all watching as the boys made their way over to James Earl Jones. Only problem is, they kept walking right past him…to the Orthodox Jew standing close by. As soon as these fathers saw they had the wrong guy, they bolted over there but not in time to stop them from delivering their line to a very shocked…and offended Jew.

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