Last night in one of my horrible dreams, I had a brief flash of Katherine Hepburn. This caused me to remember one of my old blog posts, back from '03 sometime, in which I spoke about a dinner KH had with Michael Jackson. During the dinner, Michael called cauliflower "white broccoli" and Katherine called for a stiff drink as soon as he left.

Those old posts don't even have a permalink option on them, so I have to paste the copy here. I figured I'd do this in case all 4 of my readers haven't been keeping up on this site for the last 3+ years; there's a chance some of you never saw my old stuff. So, in the spirit of the season, I will be lazy and just post something half-assed. Enjoy!
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Before I say anything else, here's a teaser: WHITE BROCCOLI.

I recall a more innocent time, when I actually enjoyed the musical stylings of Michael Jackson.

This was in the 1983-84 era, to be exact. I saw the video for "Thriller" and was all "wow" and "he's cute." Back then, I did think he was cute. In his little white and yellow vest with the one curl down on his face, that was my idea of non-threatening, androgynous cute. I was only about 8 or 9 at the time, mind you. I also saw "My Little Pony" dolls as cute, too.

Now, I am loathe to say I ever bought this man's records. I can't think of a stranger celebrity. I don't need to get into the whole bleached-your-skin-white, removed-all-bones-from-his-face, slept-with-children-and-rode-in-a-"hot air balloon"-with-Macauley-Culkin shit he's been up to since the mid 80s. But every now and then, a story breaks about him that just makes me smile all over again and remember why we need really stupid, really insane celebrities in our lives.

I've been thinking about this Katharine Hepburn dame now since she went on to the next level. I really liked her in the "African Queen" and thought she was a cool looking lady as she aged. And they did a wicked good impression of her on SNL back in the Mike Myers age (..."And who should walk through the door but Gumby and Pokey!"). She wore a kick-ass little bun in her hair and liked to wear pants. So I have a special little spot reserved inside of me somewhere for KH.

Anyway, this morning my respect for her went up a notch. I read this on AP today and had to laugh:

NEW YORK - Having Michael Jackson over for dinner was such a strain for Katharine Hepburn, she needed a stiff drink afterward.

Scott Berg writes in his new book about Hepburn that Jackson didn't know what cauliflower was when Hepburn served it to him. He called it "white broccoli."

Jackson kept telling Hepburn over dinner that she was his favorite actress, but he couldn't name any of her films.

Berg says the minute Jackson left, Hepburn cried out for her housekeeper to "get the whiskey."

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OK, first I have to say I do question her judgement about having Michael Jackson over for dinner in the first place. But maybe it wasn't her idea; maybe he was one of those people who kept calling her and sending her flowers and being really weird--maybe she would hear the sprinklers go on at 5 AM and then hear something that sounded like a 4 year old girl crying outside her window. So she pulled on a robe and peeked out through the curtains and saw Michael J. standing on her lawn dressed in a tuxedo, holding a bunch of balloons that said "I love you Kate!" and trying to sing through his tears. Maybe she sighed and thought, I'm gonna have to do something to get this asshole to leave me alone. Her agent said, "Have him for dinner just once. But here's the thing; confuse him with vegetables while he is here. No man every returns after he's been shamed with vegetables."

So that's what she did.

Lucky for her, Michael Jackson hardly ever eats anything except gold-crusted donuts and Captain Crunch in a bowl full of baby formula, so he doesn't have much knowledge of vegetables. He had once seen cauliflower when Joe Jackson was driving him and Tito past a cauliflower field once on the way to a gig. (The other 3 Jacksons were already there, because maybe their mother drove them to the hospital beforehand to stitch up their ass cheeks after their father had cracked them with a belt, so they got to ride with their momma) Anyway, there goes Michael and Tito looking out the window, their eyes wide with child wonderment. "What's that?" cries a curious Tito.

"Shut up and sing, you little shit! You gon' make your daddy rich, ya hear? No questions!" says Mean Old Joe.

Tears fill tiny Michael's eyes and drip down his naturally wide nose. "You know what it looks like, Tito? White clouds. I love white things. Maybe it's some kind of broccoli, maybe--"

He didn't get a chance to finish telling his brother his theory because Joe punched him in the kidneys and threw him through the windshield for talking. His childhood was lost forever. At least, it was lost until he made 3 billion dollars and could buy a sham childhood back again.

So anyway, years later when sassy Katharine Hepburn presented him with the mystery vegetable, you can see why he would say white broccoli. This is a man stuck at the mental age of 7, and stuck on the day he flew through a windshield and Joe Jackson ran him over with his pickup and smashed his innocence all over a dirt road while Tito wailed like a little girl.

Also, the memory of this trauma caused him to blank out and get nervous and not remember any of her films. He was desperately trying to win her approval. This strategy had worked before with Liz Taylor and Emmanuel Lewis. However, he was too blasted full of bleach to think straight. Can you blame the man for wanting to achieve purity (AKA: "whiteness") in order to ease the pain of his ruined childhood? And for wanting to appease older, more respected, more talented, and better people like Kate?

No. I hate his excuses. He is just fucking crazy. My bet is that after that dinner with Kate, he was on his way to molest the whale from Free Willy or something. Dirty no-nose asswipe.

But good for you Kate-- glad you had the foresight to get drunk afterwards and then write about this in your memoirs, so we could all laugh at him some more. Thank you, you truly are my kind of actress.