Beware false noses … really

Mental health professionals often play a little game where they test associative skills by showing a generic photo to a patient and asking him or her the first thing that comes to mind.

They show you a bunny with its mother? You might think back to childhood days of comfort food on a rainy day, with your own mother by your side. They flash a photo of a smiling kid riding a bike? You might harken back to that filthy, rotten Christmas morning when you were 7 and wanted a bike, only to wake up and find your dad passed out under the tree with a bottle of Bushmill’s in one hand and a photo of the Queen of England in the other, rambling something about a free Northern Ireland and ...

But I digress.

We really don’t have the kind of space available here to show photos, so let’s test your reactions when I mention a specific name:

Michael Jackson.

Wretch? Feel an increase in your blood pressure? Did you run upstairs to check on your children? Have a flashback to when the musical icon turned into a human tiki torch when filming that soda commercial? Whatever the image, I’m willing to bet “The King of Pop” wasn’t the first thought to enter your mind.

Now, to be fair, one of the joys of this nation is that a person is presumed innocent until found guily by a court of law. So, to blanket ourselves in the red, white and blue I so love, we won’t play out his ongoing court case in this space. However ...

What kind of brick-headed, knuckle-dragging, single-celled moron would a parent have to be to entrust the welfare of a child into the sequin-covered hands of Michael Jackson?

Wow. That felt good. But, seriously, even if one ignored the past stories of a cash-for-silence deal with another young child several years ago, the incident of dangling one of his own children from a hotel balcony, the consistently bizarre behavior during interviews, the befriending of a monkey, the “marriage” to Lisa Marie Presley, the ...

No. What kind of brick-headed, knuckle-dragging, single-celled moron would a parent have to be to entrust the welfare of a child into the sequin-covered hands of Michael Jackson?

Now, as I stated earlier, we’re going to go into this with the idea that Mr. Jackson is an innocent man in reagards to this incident. And, on the flip side, if he did indeed commit these heinous acts, the fault lies on him, not on the parents. However ...

What are these people thinking?

Granted, I’ve never been blessed with having my own child. I could never get my mind around the pressures and exhaustion a parent must feel, and the urgent need to get some “away” time once in a while to stave off insanity. Intellectually, I get it, but I’ve never actually felt that stress that only comes from the around-the-clock responsibility a child requires.

However ...

Does dropping off the kid at the home of Michael Jackson seem like a good idea to anybody reading this?

I’d rather send my child off to enjoy a weekend of discussing business sign ordinances with Ocean View Town Council or be brainwashed to be a Redskins fan by John Denny than drop them off at Planet Jackson.

Unle$$ ...

Wow, I gue$$ that wa$ a typo. I certainly didn’t intend to infer that the parent$ went into thi$ with a pre-conceived notion of what could happen in time. That would be $illy. I mean, there ha$ to be a million rea$on$ parent$ would $end their kid$ off to $tay with Michael Jack$on. Doe$n’t there?

Maybe even 20 million rea$on$.

No. I’m not going to go there. I will not suggest that any parents would send their children off with the hope something would happen that would forever scar and emotionally cripple their children for life. But, with me taking that option off the table, is there any logical reason any parent would entrust the welfare of a child to a man affectionately referred to as “Wacko Jacko?”

Of course, logic left town a long time ago whenever discussing this guy.