2005-07-14 - 9:50 p.m.

Someone’s Getting Awfully Chatty
or
Clay sends an e-mail to the people he sees every day

Some of my friends have wondered about my somewhat bizarre view of the world. Just where does it come from? Well, I’ll tell you where.

I have five brothers.
Not only that, I have three step-brothers. My husband also has five brothers, although he was only raised with two of them (but they’re Canadian, so you have to figure in the exchange rate). I also have a teenage son. These men all have men friends.

In spite of my background, I love men. I get men. I genuinely enjoy their company. They’re really not that complicated. Food, sex, sleep, sports, and toys.

This is not to say that I’m “man-like” or “mannish.” Heck, I don’t even like the Three Stooges. But some of that male culture has seeped into my being over the past 40 years. Slapstick. Toilet humor. Competitions, big and small. Their love of their little buddies.

Clay Aiken, on the other hand, was raised by women, and he certainly seems to enjoy their/our company, but bottom line: He’s still a guy. And yes, I think he probably behaves like every other male with whom I’ve had the pleasure of sharing living space. Please keep that in mind when reading this, along with another bottom line: I’m probably way cruder than he could ever hope to be.

(Again, like everything else I write, this is all totally made up and further exaggerated for good measure. I have no personal knowledge of any of Clay’s activities or the activities of his staff. I know what activities I’d like his staff to be involved in, but that’s the subject of another entry.)

From: haveigotapackageforyou@casaaiken.com
To: Su_casa_es_mi_casa@casaaiken.com
cc: whyamidoingnicksjob@clipboards.net, dontmakemechaseya@gettingcranky.com

Rule Number One: No number two! This is a simple rule, and it applies to everyone, including Jerome.

Rule Number Two: No number two! Just in case anyone was getting confused by all the different numbers in rule number one. (Yes, Nick, I’m looking at you!)

Rule Number Three: No making fun of my food choices. Ketchup is a vegetable and a hotpocket is a balanced meal.

Rule Number Four: The bunk curtains are there for everybody’s privacy, both the person behind the curtain and the unsuspecting person who’s innocently walking to the back of the bus to get a third bowl of cereal before going to sleep. (Yes, Nick, I’m still looking at you! Do something with your hair, wontcha?) So don’t stand outside someone else’s closed bunk snickering or making barnyard animal noises. And especially don’t scream, “Oh God, Sarge, look out for that semi!” at the top of your lungs. Not only was that extremely embarrassing, I could have really hurt myself. (Or one of you! HAHA)

Rule Number Five: Participation in F*rt Wars is mandatory, as it will again provide the entertainment during the intermission between each night’s West Wing episode and the viewing of some of the videos that my amazing fans must’ve captured accidentally while they were trying to film the architectural details of the various concert venues, and which somehow wound up on-line when maybe their children or someone else was fiddling with things they shouldn’t be touching, but miraculously these video files have somehow managed to be available for our downloading pleasure, and since they’re already there, we may as well stream them! (Just a note, when I wrote that part about children fiddling with things they really shouldn’t be touching, I did NOT hear my mama’s voice in my head!)

The rules for F*rt Wars are basically the same as on every other tour, but since JohnD. won’t be there to break any ties, Sarge will have to do it. (So that means he either has to smell it or hear it for it to count!) Remember: It IS a competition. Kelly was a worthy adversary, but will either Nick or Jerome unseat the three-time defending champion this time around? Will Mary loosen up enough to even be considered a contender? Stay tuned. (Maybe I should’ve been a journalist! HAHA)

Now, on to some other ideas I had to make this a more pleasant experience for all of us, and by all of us, I’m mostly talking about the person who signs everyone’s checks. (HAHA!)

First things first. Frankly, my fans are so amazing that we just get too many gifts and goody bags. Sometimes I can’t even find my jar of peanut butter or an important document or video game, so we really need to develop a system for processing the contents.

I love that my creative fans give me letters, pictures, scrapbooks, and other works of art, but my mom said I have to stop sending them all to her house, especially since I never come by to read them. There’s just not enough room to store them on the bus and Lord knows I don’t need them at my house either! (I’m all about the fan blogs now anyway.) So please just give any checks made out to the BAF to Mary, and she can get them to Fran. The five or six phone calls from Fran per day to check on the status of BAF checks should also be directed to Mary.

Nick, will you be able to use your discretion in deciding which gifts to Raleigh we should keep and which we should donate to local animal shelters? “Use your discretion” doesn’t have anything to do with how pretty the girl is who handed you the gift. Stuffed animals and other like items should be donated to local hospitals and homeless shelters. My fans are so generous, I’m sure they won’t mind knowing their gifts are going to good use.

Now on to a serious issue. Or should I say a “pressing” issue? That’s right. Laundry.

I don’t do it. And the wardrobe mistress refuses to wash my socks (thanks to Kelly – where’s that devil emoticon? HA!) and I certainly don’t want her touching my unmentionables. Yes, it creates a few problems, but thanks to my amazing fans, it’s not as bad as it could be. They send along so many sweatshirts and pajamas and whatnot that I never have to wear the same thing twice. What they don’t send is enough socks! Now, you may remember that I gave away most of my socks when I was in Banda Aceh, and I haven’t been able to replenish my supply recently through touring. Fran’s managed to stop by the house and throw in a load between handling her other foundation responsibilities, and my mom bought me several pairs at the Target in Raleigh, otherwise I’d still be wearing my flip-flops. Not that I think that’s a bad thing, but some of my fans think they look kinda freaky with dress pants.

Sad to say, the tour will be starting in just two weeks, and I have maybe five pairs of clean socks to my name. So either we have to get the word out to my fans that I need more socks, or someone else is going to have to start doing my laundry. I’d ask Nick, but he’s usually too busy keeping me company. Mary, if you do it, I promise I won’t make you do any other foundation work (besides handling the checks and keeping Fran up-to-date that I already mentioned). Please, Mary, whatdya say?

It’s not like I’m asking you to wash my underwear! Nobody does that. Not me and certainly not Fran. I was sending big bundles back to Mom and she was usually pretty accommodating, especially since I bought her that new washer and dryer, but then I realized that if one of those packages was accidentally delivered to one of my enthusiastic fans, well, let’s just say I didn’t want to see my gaunchies up for auction on ebay! And I most certainly didn’t want any of my other enthusiastic fans asking her what they smelled like! Not fresh laundry, I can tell you that. ; )

Fortunately, my fans send me LOTS of underwear, so I barely have to go commando these days. Just everyone make sure to check all the goody bags very thoroughly, since I’d feel kinda funny passing on some of the more personalized underwear to unsuspecting strangers anyway. I mean, who else is going to understand what “Supreme Ruler of the Kingdom of Do Me” means? Or “Right Click and Save?” I guess other people may understand “Hail to the Chief,” but it doesn’t really apply to just anybody, does it, Nick? Oh goodness, my fans are so creative with their phrases, but I really like the cartoon underwear too, since the characters provide such good company for the other fellas in the neighborhood. And maybe I can’t dance, but I can sure make Bugs Bunny or Elmo bust a move! OOPS, SORRY, MARY, I probably should have told you not to read this paragraph!

And let’s see…it looks like SpongeBob will be the star of today’s show! Two performances only, matinee and evening, “These Pants Aren’t Square Anymore.” Call now to book the best seat in the house! Depending on crowd response, we may even add a midnight showing! (Oh man, I really should’ve been a tv commentator of some kind. This stuff just comes to me off the top of my head! It’s not like it’s even hard. Unless I want it to be. HAHA! Okay, sometimes even when it’s inconvenient. Goodness, I hope this isn’t going over your head, Nick. I could keep going and going, but I really should wrap this up so I can get back to my blog. It’s probably a good thing I’m getting the smut out of my system now, so that it doesn’t end up in my entry, like it did last week.)

While we’re on the subject though (Mary, are you still with us?), I need some ideas about the pajamas. Now, I’m assuming that most fans send me pajamas they consider “family-friendly,” which means they usually don’t provide for easy, um, access. What’s so friendly about that? At least give me a button or something! I know I’ve mentioned keeping things family-friendly once or twice in interviews, so this could be all my fault. But no matter how it’s happened, it’s important now that we get the word out about my equally firm beliefs on the benefits of equal opportunity and inclusion. I was thinking we could use that new text-messaging technology to give some subtle hints to my amazing fans during the concerts. In fact, I’ve already come up with a few secret messages we could run across the screen to address my many needs:

I’m hoping for a wardrobe function.
I left my socks in Banda Aceh.
Sponge Bob, not so Square Pants.
Why do you think I’ve got my hands in my pockets?
Too much junk in my bunk.
Left Clickers are People, Too.
I’m an equal opportunity clicker: sometimes left, sometimes right.
Did anyone get leid while I was napping?
Don't everyone cock your head all at once!
Has anybody seen my blog?
I’ve got content!
Submit your entries at my official site.
I’ve only lost one key and two cellphones all year!

I know, I know, some of those are pretty lame, and the last one was just plain bragging. I’m sure we’ll be able to come up with something a little more creative once my fans get the ball rolling.

Which brings me to my last item. You may know that my enthusiastic and creative fans have been designing pins that they’ll be wearing and trading during my JukeBox Tour. So I’ve decided to have a pin competition for my staff. The most important rule is that you’re not allowed to ask any of my amazing fans for pins; THEY MUST APPROACH YOU! Obviously, I’m going to win, so you’re really just competing for second place (not that there’s anything wrong with that.) Somehow, I ended up with a few sashes from the last time I went to the Miss America pageant, I guess Raleigh must’ve got a hold of them and hidden them in my bus bunk or something. Anyway, I’ve got enough for everyone to display their pin collections. I’m sure I’ll have better prizes this time! My fans have really missed me.

Oops! Gotta go! I’m actually recording some tracks for my new CD! Maybe. HAHA.

Keep on Bussing,

Clay
Mr. Aiken, if you’re Leisey.

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