Over the next year Terje Fjelde has agreed to listen to nothing but David Foster on his iPod. He’s loaded the thing with over 1,200 songs produced, arranged, composed, and/or played by the man. A deal with the devil? He keeps wondering.
I guess congratulations are in order. David Foster became an uncle this month, and he now has a nephew named Parker Foster Aiken.
David’s 50-year-old sister Jaymes Foster was artificially inseminated by Clay Aiken, of all people, and the dark-haired baby boy was born at 8:08 AM on Friday, August 8 (could it possibly have been a c-section?), weighed six pounds, two ounces, and was 19 inches long. Amazing.
I wonder who they named him after. Colonel Parker? Nah, that’s kinda weird considering that David recently divorced Elvis Presley’s ex-girlfriend. Charlie Parker? Dorothy Parker? Hardly.
Probably Sarah Jessica Parker.
You know, every now and then I dream of the decadent lifestyle of a successful writer-producer-something-anything in the hills of Beverly. But it only takes a quick glance at the surreal lives of these plastic-coated people to realize it would be like entering the Roman Empire just before the fall of Rome.
It’s comforting to see sturdy old people like uncle David staying true to themselves in the face of the impending Dark Ages, though, never giving an inch to the decay, with a mere three wives and half a dozen kids or so, everything under fairly conventional circumstances, or so it seems. Bear in mind that whenever I say “it seems” in this series I appear to be wrong.
