Happy Birthday, Cindy

Yesterday was a special holiday – a day when we should all stop and reflect and pay tribute. No, not to America’s Presidents. They get enough press as is. It was a bigger day than that.

You see, yesterday was Cindy Crawford’s 40th birthday.

Yes, America’s premier Supermodel turned the big 4-0 on Monday the 20th. Happy Birthday, dear Cindy – Happy Birthday to you.

I’ll admit that many, many years ago (back in the days when BIG HAIR like this was considered “in”), I had an early 90’s mini-crush on Miss Crawford and her pouty smile; Heck, find a red-blooded All American hetero male who didn’t – I dare ya.

We shared so much in common – we both drank Diet Pepsi (only I wasn’t paid to do so), we both liked to watch MTV (although I always preferred videos over House of Style), and we both liked to watch her parade around in the latest swim fashions (okay, maybe that was just me.)

But back in the day, when Miss Crawford and I were both still in our mid-20’s, it was great fun to drool over Cindy.

Why? Well, aside from the obvious (duh), my main motivation was that it drove my ex-wife nuts. And that right there was enough justification on its own.

You see, The X used to spend copious amounts of time telling everyone about Richard Gere’s shower scene in a crappy movie “Breathless”. So when Richard started dating Cindy, I decided that turnabout was more than fair play. The time came along for me to adopt a celebrity pet, too – and who better than the woman who had won the Pretty Man’s heart (at least temporarily)?

So anyway, from that point on I made a point of pointing out every one of her TV appearances to The X – which, this being 1992 was just about every 10 seconds. “Oooh, look X,” I’d say. “Cindy Crawford! Whoo-hoo!” Cindy was omnipresent – and so was the irritation I gave The X about her. I even had Miss Katie (who was all of 5 years old at the time) running around saying “Whoo hoo – Cindy Crawford” every time Miss Crawford was on the set. Amazing fun, I tell you. Amazing fun.

But my biggest stunt happened on February 20, 1994 – Cindy’s 28th birthday. By some strange coincidence I happened to have made a cake that day. No particular reason; it was just a cake. But when I saw on TV that afternoon that it was Cindy’s birthday I decided that my otherwise plain chocolate cake suddenly became a Cindy Crawford Birthday Cake.

So that night we put candles on it, and my 6 year old daughter climbed up to the table, sang Happy Birthday, Cindy, and blew out the candles in a long-distance dedication to the fabulously moled supermodel.

Well, that was just about enough to set The X off big time – but the literal icing on the cake came a little while later, when my precious daughter went up to The X and asked her the fateful question:

“Mommy, is Daddy going to divorce you for Cindy Crawford?”

Well, that did it. Game over. Joke no longer funny. The X was seriously pissed at this point.

Although, I can’t really understand why. I mean, Cindy Crawford was a world famous supermodel/millionaire/TV celebrity/expert spokesmodel/fabulous babe. What on earth would she ever want with a 28 year old washed up customer support rep with a bitchy mean spouse? I mean, I wasn't even in the same barrel to be scraped from the bottom of. It’d never happen – not in a million years and 10 million recycled Diet Pepsi cans.

But that didn’t matter. The bug of jealousy had officially chewed clean through The X, and apparently had hit a mighty raw nerve.

Heh, heh, I was in HUGE trouble, but it was still pretty damn funny.

So here we are, 12 years later. The X is long gone from my life (thank God), I’m happily remarried to the Lovely Mrs. G., and Cindy has gone onto bigger and better things.

As for my Dream Model, my crush officially dissolved the day I sat down and watched her crap-fest movie “Fair Game”. Phew! Have you ever seen that celluloid dog food? Poor Cindy may be hot on the outside, but damn – the girl can’t act her way out of the thinnest of paper bags. Sometimes the phrase “just keep your mouth shut and stand there looking pretty” really does apply.

Miss Katie is now 18, and just this morning I asked her if she remembered it was Cindy Crawford’s birthday yesterday. She just smiled and asked if she needed to call her mother and point it out. I passed on the opportunity – why rub salt in 12 year old wounds?

Still, Happy Birthday wishes go out to Cindy Crawford. Sorry it never worked out between the two of us – you know how it goes, right? But if we’re ever in the same neighborhood, I promise I’ll buy you a Diet Pepsi and a big slice of birthday cake. For old times sake.