Sunday, November 25, 2018

Troy Osmond and Mindi Carpenter... what do they have in common?

Well... they are both offspring of famous musicians from the 1970s.  And they both generate a lot of traffic to my blogs.  And Troy’s Uncle Alan once dated Mindi’s Aunt Karen, many years before either Mindi or Troy was born.

It's always interesting to see what topics will generate the most interest.  I write a lot of heartfelt, personal, even deep stuff on my main blog that barely gets noticed.  And then I write about Richard Carpenter's daughter, Mindi, on my music blog, and it generates six figures of hits.  I'm serious.  The post I wrote about Mindi Carpenter wasn't even that interesting, but every day, it keeps my music blog alive.  You can see the most popular posts of all time on Dungeon of the Past.  The top two by a landslide are about Mindi Carpenter, who sings, but not like her late Aunt Karen.

My post about Troy Osmond, likewise, is turning out to be an interesting hit grabber on my main blog.  Osmond, who recently died at the young age of 33, was Merrill Osmond's son.  Merrill is one of the Osmond Brothers and, before little brother Donny became a star, Merrill did a lot of the lead vocals.  I still don't know exactly why Troy Osmond died.  I have read that it was of natural causes, while he was staying in his parents' home.  I have also read that he had some medical problems that caused physical pain that may have led him to use painkillers to excess.

A couple of years ago, the late Mr. Osmond had some trouble with law enforcement that led to his arrest, fines, and some time spent in jail.  I don't know anything about Troy Osmond's situation, but the article makes it sound like he may have had some trouble with doctor shopping and prescription drug abuse. While I don't condone drug abuse, I do realize that some illnesses and physical conditions can lead to dependence on opioids.  Or... maybe he just enjoyed being high.  It was probably a combination of factors.  Anyway, I don't know if that situation was a factor in Troy Osmond's early demise.  I suspect it might have been, but I don't know, and I am not saying I know.

The point is, my post about Troy Osmond, which didn't actually say a lot, is generating a shitload of hits, just like my post about Mindi Carpenter continues to do five years post creation.  I had no idea.  At this writing, the subject of Troy Osmond has generated over 1600 hits on this blog.  That post has existed for just two weeks.  All of my other posts are cracking anywhere from 25 to 100 hits a pop, except for a few that inflamed the masses. 

I notice that when someone leaves a pissed off comment, I get more hits.  I also get hits on posts about mundane things.  Lately, my post about the dueling Transformed Wives is also getting hits.  Actually, I have to laugh about that, since at least one of the Transformed Wives writes nothing but inflammatory blather about a woman's place in the world.  She misspells words, centers her text, has an affected writing style, seems to think women should be barefoot and pregnant, and blocks anyone who doesn't kiss her ass.  And she has thousands of followers!  Of course, a lot of her followers are probably people who like making fun of her medieval approach to modern living.

If I wanted attention, maybe I'd follow The Transformed Wife's cue and write a bunch of inflammatory shit that draws people to my blog like a moth to a flame.  But, to be honest, I don't like that kind of attention.  I'd rather people read my stuff because it's interesting or entertaining or because they can relate to it on some level.  I mainly blog to eat up free time, of which I have too much, and to share the stuff that rents space in my head.

Making money has never been one of my talents.  I like having money and I do the best I can to manage what we have, but I'm not one to do things to generate it.  I'm sure The Transformed Wife is laughing all the way to the bank with her silly rants about women doctors ruining the medical profession and men preferring women without tattoos or a sexual history.  If she's a good little Christian, she probably tithes on the money her books and blogs make.  But I've seen no evidence that she's a good Christian, particularly when she insists on completely silencing those who disagree with her by blocking them.  On the other hand, I notice that she recently wrote a very deep post about a hideous song from my youth called "I've Never Been To Me".  Not surprisingly, she thinks the song has "beautiful lyrics".

This version doesn't include the spoken bridge that never fails to make me cringe.  For those who are curious, here it is.  Just another shitty day in paradise, right?  Unless you're in Paradise, California.

Hey, you know what paradise is? It’s a lie. A fantasy we create about
people and places as we’d like them to be. But you know what truth is?
It’s that little baby you’re holding, and it’s that man you fought with
This morning, the same one you’re going to make love with tonight.
That’s truth, that’s love.

I remember going to karaoke night one evening when we lived at Fort Belvoir, Virginia.  A woman got up and sang this song.  She was a government civilian who was roughly equivalent in rank to a colonel.  I feel pretty certain she was single and didn't have children.  Perhaps she felt regret at choosing to follow a very successful career path instead of staying home and having babies.  The grass is always greener.  I also know that particular karaoke-goer couldn't stand me.  It was probably due to my foul mouth, "charming" personality, and the fact that I knocked her off of Queen Bee status on karaoke night.  She did have a lot of loyal fans, though... except when she tried to sing "Money" by Pink Floyd and refused to say the word "bullshit".

Anyway, last night, as I sat among the mess that comes from a move, telling Bill that my plans for my life were wildly diverted by my love affair with him, I had to concede that I wouldn't trade my life with him for a job at the CDC or at the Department of Health and Environmental Control (which is where I was working in grad school).  But I also fear for the future, because if Bill dies, I might as well hurl myself off a bridge.  I probably won't do that, but it might feel like I should.

My life turned into a weird hybrid of what The Transformed Wife says it should be.  I don't have a job that generates a lot of money and I stay home and do my mediocre housekeeping bit, but I also haven't had a bunch of babies.  I would have had at least one if we'd been able to, but it just wasn't in the cards.

So now, I write posts about the children of celebrities that some people find interesting.  I don't think either Mindi Carpenter or Troy Osmond were particularly famous themselves.  But they are definitely hitmakers on my blogs.  Interesting, isn't it?

Yesterday, we spent the day cleaning.  I spent several hours scrubbing the kitchen cabinets and throwing things out.  I also did some mopping and laundry.  It was a pretty big job, especially for such a tiny kitchen.  At one point, I thought I was going to break a leg.  I had to climb up on the counter to be able to reach the highest shelf in one of the cabinets.  When I was a child, I used to climb on the counters like a goddamned monkey.  Now, I'm like a really fat cat that can't come down from a tree.  I literally got kind of scared trying to get off the counter.  Bill had gone to the dump, so I was actually afraid I might hurt myself trying to get down by myself.  Fortunately, I was able to reposition myself and get off the counter safely.

I expect today we will clean a bit more and purchase rugs for the new house.  I love that it has beautiful hardwood floors, but I don't love the idea of stains and scratches.  Tomorrow, the packers come, and Tuesday, they load us up.  Wednesday, they'll unload us in Wiesbaden, and Thursday and Friday, I'll stay there and unpack while Bill closes us out down here.  In a week, we'll be in our new house and Bill will prepare for his new job.  It's surreal as hell.  Things sure can change quickly.

I guess that's how the Osmond family feels now, having lost one of their own so suddenly...


  1. I hate any song that has dialogue in it, but I have special animosity for "I've Never Been to Me." I don't know what would possess anyone to right such drivel, much less to record it.

  2. P.S. I'm still getting comments and complaints on old posts relating to the Lawrence Welk Show.


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