Science class was always difficult for me.

Throughout my schooling I struggled to earn a decent grade in science. As an adult looking back I realized that most of my education consisted of being taught facts that I attempted to memorize and then retrieve. My memory is poorer than my intelligence would suggest. I’m not a dumb guy, but I have a dumb memory. Not a great combination – smart and forgetful. Thank God the internet came to be in my lifetime. I no longer have to remember much of anything. I have immediate access to facts and am not penalized on my inability to recall items from my swiss cheese brain.

Once in seventh grade I stayed up until 11pm to memorize every fact for a science test. I landed a 97%, the highest grade in the class. After a short-lived exuberance, a mild depression washed over me. I realized that there was no way I would have the energy to do that amount of work for future exams. It was way too much time to devote to a silly test. In the next exam a month later, I barely passed. The teacher pulled me into a private meeting because I guess it’s not common for a student to fall from grace that quickly. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I only studied thirty minutes because I wasn’t going to miss the back-to-back Wings episodes on USA during prime time. The other reason I wasn’t going to kill myself for each test was that the teacher had announced who earned the highest grade. When I had scored the near-perfect it wasn’t like my peers threw a ticker tape parade in my honor. Nobody applauded and, if anything, I sensed hostility from the class. And, if there’s one thing I know about school is that the acceptance of your peers is pretty goddamn important. Over time I learned how to earn Bs without sacrificing my exposure to pop culture. Since I took honors classes, each B turned into an A on the report card. Don’t ask me to explain why that happened, but thank God it did.

This month at InThePowderRoom I wrote a review for a microscope for girls. Don’t ask me to summarize the content because, as explained earlier, I have no memory of it. But I do remember thinking it came out darned good. You should go read it right now.

first photo credit: Science Class at UIS via (license)
second photo credit: Hold My Purse Productions LLC

Why?

Because when I was fifteen I was a busboy at a steakhouse and busy not getting dates.  You’re winning national singing contests and releasing videos.

Ha ha!  Oh… Wait… I didn’t mean to laugh at you.

This was how the beginning of my interview went with up-and-coming teen pop star, Kiana Brown.  She was getting ready to shoot a video for her single Hey Chica and took some time to hang with me over the phone.  I had written about twenty questions in advance but many had to be scrapped because they were, quite frankly, inappropriate.

Kiana’s a signed artist with RCA and recently won KidzBop, the USA’s largest teen singing contest.  She beat out forty thousand other singers and received two million votes.  Overachieve much, K?

A few of my questions that landed on the cutting room floor.

• I heard a rumor that during the contest you were actively praying to God to deliver bronchitis to the other three finalists.  How do you respond?
• Obviously you’re better than most of us.  How much better would you estimate?
• Have you ever accidentally belched into the microphone going for a high E?

I did ask her if she would write me a song and, when her single goes platinum, if I can move into the guesthouse of her future Hollywood mansion.  She said yes to both, and with respect to the house would make me a plaque with my full name above the door, so that everyone would know I lived there.  (she was making fun of my name)

Since my maturity hovers around fourteen to sixteen years of age, we were on the same wavelength.  However, I’m a terrible interviewer.  I interrupted her a good six times during our thirty minute conversation.  This is going to make writing the piece a little difficult.

The hardest part of the competition was the waiting.  It’s really stressful and you’re on pins and needles just passing time.  Also, you have to practice…

Oh yeah, I’m in a band.  We practice all the time.  Did I mention I was in a band?

Yes. Yes you did.

I told Kiana that I was currently more famous than her because I had more Twitter followers and that she must listen to my career advice.  I then realized I had no actual advice.  I suggested she defer to her managers.

To end the interview I said something in retrospect that probably came across as creepy.  I said, “If you’re ever in Chicago I’ll come out and see you!”  I meant that I would go to the show and watch her perform.  I should have been more specific.

Anyway, Kiana’s a fun kid and I like her quite a bit.  Now I have to write an article about her and get the sucker published.  In the meantime, check out her video below.  The song drops on June 19th, and I hope it hits big.  This way I can become her official biographer and have a reason to move into the guest house.

Okay, obviously I was kidding – I’m sure you were ready to punch me through your computer screen right into my sack.

The truth is that moms work damned hard.  I know that my mother was busting her fanny just raising us even when she wasn’t working a day job.  And there were only two of us kids.

Moms are often the bad guys too, especially if they’re home all day.  They’re the primary disciplinarian, and the kids end up with resentment because you told them they couldn’t watch a Pixar movie before making up the bed.

Okay, I hope to have sufficiently persuaded you that I actually think mothers are awesome, hardworking, and rarely get deserved credit.  My mom cried during brunch today because I came home to visit this weekend.  That’s a good mom.

But what about those of you with shit mothers?

Certainly there’s got to be a few floating around, right?  Hopefully you don’t have one.

Well, those mothers should not get a free pass.  If you were a bunk mom your children should be able to call you up the second Sunday of every May and shame you.  For you, it will be known as “Shitty Shaming Day.”

And then the rest of us with great moms will get together and buy you some chocolate covered strawberries.  That way you get to unload on your bad mother AND have a delicious snack.  I think that’s fair.

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Hi Joan, how was Mother’s Day?

Great!  The kids flew in, took me to brunch, gave me a mani/pedi in the living room, and then presented me with the entire All My Children seasons on dvd autographed by Susan Lucci!  Oh, and Linda, how was Shitty Shaming Day?

Well, my daughter called from London.  You remember Sally – she moved overseas because, as she puts it, “I hate the USA knowing that you live there.”  She’s mad that I called her fat from age six until seventeen.  For Shitty Shaming Day she phoned up and just screamed the c-word over and over again.  My son mailed me his dog’s feces and a fork.  He didn’t explicitly say it, but I’m assuming he wants me to “eat shit.”  Still mad that I told him every time I cried it was because he was bad.

You really didn’t benefit from the addition of Shitty Shaming Day, did you?

I did not.

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So for all you lucky enough to have a great mother, I hope you made her feel special.  And I have a tip for you – call her up on a random Thursday next month and tell her what a great job she did raising you.  Trust me.