You're the Greatest

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Whitney got caught up in the same thing that trapped and killed Elvis and a lot of others, huh?

It must be hell to have people around you who tell you that you're the greatest and that you can't do no wrong no matter how wrong you are.

I wouldn't know.

Thankfully for me all the people who surround me tell me how great I aren't.

And I wouldn't want it any other way.

Can you imagine someone just eternally kissing your ass? Or everyone doing it?

It's funny but now that Whitney is gone, allegedly at the hands of the the demon that she couldn't chase, people are coming out of the woodwork to say how much they loved her, cherished her, and tried to help her.

Look at last week's National Enguirer. There's a story about her bottoming out. The story is first page.

Where were all those people who wanted to help then?

Back quite a few years ago I was interviewed for my book Waldorf & Juli. I always think of my wife having this exchange with the Buffalo News reporter:

Reporter: Your husband has published six books now. You must be proud.

Kathy: I guess.

Reporter: He's very talented.

Kathy: Obviously you haven't slept with him.

You see, that was the kind of support that Whitney really needed in her life. I had been heightened by the reporter's praise.

My wife stripped me of it, immediately and emasculated me at the same time.

Exactly what I deserved.

There will be no head-swelling here.

(Just for the record...it was a joke! I am very talented in all facets!).

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