Dear Mariah Carey: sorry/not sorry, but this column has nothing to do with you. Now that the boxes have been opened, the gifts unwrapped and the last piece of gaily colored tissue paper has fluttered …
Dear Mariah Carey: sorry/not sorry, but this column has nothing to do with you. Now that the boxes have been opened, the gifts unwrapped and the last piece of gaily colored tissue paper has fluttered to the floor, it’s clear that my friends believe that all I want for Christmas is (wait for it) Jeff Goldblum.
Look, it’s not a secret that I’m a fan, but not a rabid, fainting, schoolgirl-crush kinda fan. It’s not like I’m a member of the Jeff Goldblum fan club, for cryin’ out loud. But to be fair, I didn’t know there was an actual club until this morning.
It’s also no mystery that I’ve followed Goldblum’s career for decades and that he’s featured in some of my all-time favorite films. “Nashville,” “The Big Chill,” and “Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension” (Google it) are among them, but with more than 70 movie credits to his name, there’s pretty much something (“Guardians of the Galaxy” and “Independence Day” spring to mind) for everyone. Oh, and there’s a little film franchise based on Michael Crichton’s uber-successful page-turner titled “Jurassic Park.” If memory serves, Jeff plays with dinosaurs in those movies.
That said, I’m not looking to redecorate my home, nor pore over fanzines all day long, getting misty-eyed over how dreamy Jeff Goldblum is. And yet here we are: Christmas 2021. “I sent you a little something. Has it arrived yet?” girlfriend Kelli D. asked via text. “I wanted you to get a warm hug from Jeff” she continued. “I hope you don’t curse me when you see it.”
With mild trepidation, I opened the squishy package over a cup of coffee on Christmas Day. Brightly colored to the point of being garish, what turned out to be a fleecy throw-blanket-type thing, big enough to cover an adult, unfolded with a larger-than-life photo of my famous friend in all of his Technicolor glory. “It’s called the Jeff Goldblum of Happiness” Kelli added in her text. “Do you like it?”
Later that same day, I tossed the dog into the car and zipped (I mean, drove very carefully) across town to have another cup of joe with gal-pal Laura and exchange gifts. Even though I need nothing, Laura is still young enough to not be totally jaded like me, so I got her something stunning for her lovely home, and she gave me (drum roll please) a Jeff Goldblum coloring book.
“Don’t get mad,” she cautioned with a wave. “It’s good for your blood pressure. Coloring, I mean. And I’ve included a deluxe box of crayons,” she chirped, “with a built-in sharpener and everything.”
Actually, it’s Laura who’s to blame for starting it all. When she gave me a black and white sequined Jeff Goldblum throw pillow (uh-huh) a few years ago, I squealed with joy (in a very manly way) and it’s prominently displayed in my home to this day. Truth be told, I talk to him out loud and I suppose it’s possible that others have noticed our whispered conversations (yes, he talks back) and ever-blossoming bromance.
Why else then would my old friend Ryan Anthony send me a freakin’ shower curtain emblazoned with a gigantic you-know-who and a gorilla, if for no other reason than to taunt me with his interpretation of a Christmas gift?
“Never trust a man with two first names,” Barbara Fox would say, and I guess this proves it. Thanks, Ryan. It’s super tasteful, like the rainbow-colored blanket-type thing from Kelli. Later on, I’ll snuggle with Dharma under that, while coloring between the lines of my new Jeff Goldblum comic book and watching Jurassic Park for the 11th time.
By the way, I happened to catch Jeff being interviewed by Drew Barrymore recently on her television talk show, and she asked him about the plethora of Goldblum-inspired tchotchkes and gee-gaws out there for lunatics (like my friends) to purchase. “Oh, it’s not me,” he laughed, while looking at items like questionable shower curtains and pillows. “I don’t make any money from all this stuff,” he said grinning. “But it’s a hoot, isn’t it?” What a guy.
Fun Fact: “All I Want for Christmas is You” is a song recorded by American singer Mariah Carey for her fourth studio album and first holiday record, “Merry Christmas.” Written and produced by Carey and Walter Afanasieff, the song was released as a single from the album on October 29, 1994. Twenty-five years after its original release (she’s “fifty-something”) it topped the U.S. Billboard Hot 100 for the first time, thereby breaking the record for the longest trip to number one.
Why is it called a cup of joe? The most likely reason is that “joe” is a shortened version of “jamoke” which is a combination of the java and mocha. (Courtesy of the Google.)
Wanna know more about my holiday gifts? Subscribe to my Youtube channel @jonathancharlesfox. I have tens of followers.
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