CALL ME SNAKE

Maybe I should just come out and say my life is pathetic, but I’m still riding high from last Sunday’s early-morning coup when my newspaper arrived with not one but two copies of my all-time favorite magazine, PARADE. (As I often say: “I like it ’cause it’s real.”) Last Sunday’s version–or I should say versions–had a picture of Beyonce’ on the cover, next to the caption: “Beautiful Beyonce’ worries: Does he love me for me?” I must confess that I haven’t gotten beyond the cover yet, but if I were forced to answer the question today, right now, based on what I know, I’d be inclined to say “no.” On the other hand, if I don’t love her for her, who do I love her for? Certainly not for my wife. Or kids. So, I guess I’d have to say “yes” after all. I don’t know anything about this gal’s singing–evidently she’s quite a talent–but I can say she is persuasive. Though not persuasive enough to make me want to see “Dream Girls.”