Remember when Michael Jackson was cool? Remember when people walked around with red leather jackets and that lone bejeweled glove? Remember debating your friends on what the lyrics to “Billie Jean” really meant?

Now, whenever the name Michael Jackson comes up in conversation, it seems to be followed by a snicker and a dirty joke about his penchant for young boys and monkeys.

But for me, no matter how long he insists on covering his face with veils and talking nonsense about “Neverland,” Michael Jackson’s coup de grace – “Thriller” – will remain one of my all-time favorite albums.

A few weeks ago, an expanded 25th anniversary edition of this innovative musical accomplishment hit the stores. It includes a CD of the original nine-song album, pristinely re-mastered, with six new remixed songs by current pop stars will.i.am, Akon, Fergie and Kanye West. The album's groundbreaking music videos and Jackson's career-defining 1983 performance on the television special “Motown 25: Yesterday, Today and Forever” are on DVD.

The discs are housed in an attractive casebook with 48 glossy pages of “Thriller” song lyrics and photos of Jackson before his skin turned alabaster and his face morphed into something out of a Wes Craven movie. There are also several ghoulish shots from the incredibly innovative (and still awesome) “Thriller” video (think about Jennifer Garner’s dance moves in “13 Going on 30”).

However, online critics have lamented that ultimately, the 25th anniversary edition offers nothing fans haven't been able to obtain for years. They said that the new remixed tracks are hardly worth getting excited about, as the modern pop stars, especially will.i.am, muddle songs that have managed to stay fresh-sounding after all these years. Again, remember when MTV was a novel concept only available in certain markets (and it actually played MUSIC!?). “Thriller” was one of the first big hits catapulted to the top thanks in part to its very cool music video.

According to an article I found on the Web, “A skinny guy with a Jheri curl and a fresh nose job single-handedly brought black music back to the mainstream, polishing and fusing elements of styles that were in limbo during the late 1970s and early 80s. Glints of disco, R&B, new wave, punk and rock suffused ‘Thriller,’ which CBS Records (now Sony-BMG) brilliantly mass-marketed. Jackson, who had been refined by the Motown machine during his years as a child star, became the era's most important artist.”

Other than Madonna, there was no artist who could compare to Michael Jackson’s fame, popularity or musical influence at the time. And his music is still speaking to a new generation of fans. For example, I have a 20-year-old nephew who is into all kinds of crazy music (he follows that strange ‘Insane Clown Posse” band). However, I noticed that one of the CDs in his random and much-varied musical collection is Michael Jackon’s “Thriller.” I must admit, I was stunned.

It remains pop's biggest-selling album with more than 100 million copies sold worldwide. It still sells about 60,000 copies a year. Jackson's famous and oft-copied dance moves are imitated today by the likes of Usher, Justin Timberlake and Chris Brown. One of the most memorable commercials during Super Bowl Sunday showed animated lizards in a SoBe Life Water ad, re-enacting the dance moves from the “Thriller” video.

The online article stated that, “No other album released in the last 25 years has managed to be so musically transcendent, which makes the seemingly rushed execution of the expanded edition a bit disappointing. If anything, the reworked bonus cuts only reinforce what pop fans have known since 1982: Nobody can mess with ‘Thriller.’”

Well said.

Ahhh, road rage. That perfect venting of emotion directed at complete strangers whilst you fight a seemingly endless stream of traffic on your interminable ride home from work.

We’ve all been there – the heavy sighs (my signature move), the hand gestures, the muttering to oneself, the string of four-letter words shouted in iambic pentameter.

For me, with a three-year-old singing in the backseat, I find that I must curtail the worst of my road rage. Instead of peppering the landscape with expletives, I have found new words to voice my displeasure with careless, thoughtless, unskilled drivers who share the road with the rest of the general population.

Let me set a scenario. I have worked a full day, picked up my daughter at daycare and am heading toward the bank and grocery store. I encounter a moron in a truck whose wheels were as tall as my Honda. He revs his engine and peels out at every stop light, weaving in and out of traffic and generally causing a commotion.

In the old days, I would have sped up to get next to him at the next light, rolled down my window and given him a piece of my mind. Now, in mommy mode, I say things like “Nice move, buddy” or “What the heck is this guy doing?” No swears, no aggressive maneuvers. While less satisfying, personally, than the rage I used to exhibit, it is definitely a step in the right direction when it comes to controlling my anger.

I read an article today on aol.com, written by Craig Howie, which made me think about road rage, what causes it and how people react.

In his article, Howie noted that AAA offers a three-step plan to avoid becoming the victim of aggressive driving:

• The first tip is "don't offend," which includes cutting off other drivers, driving slowly in the left lane, tailgating and gesturing to other drivers.

• The agency then warns to "not engage," which advises steering clear of trouble, not making eye contact and getting help, by calling 911, in the event of experiencing dangerous, aggressive driving. It then asks at-risk drivers to "adjust their attitude," which involves "forgetting winning" (for the drivers to whom driving is a Darwinian survival of the fittest), or putting themselves in the other's driver's shoes.

• Finally, they recommend that, if you think you have a road rage problem, to seek professional help. 

OK, AAA, but what about the people who are naturally bad or aggressive drivers? Typically, they are the ones causing the road rage. How do we deal with the guy in the big truck who is making my commute a contact sport?

I think back to an incident that happened to a friend about a month ago. She was driving on a side street in Massachusetts’ third largest city. A car in front of her kept slowing down, as if they were going to turn or stop. She said she was just following along, and did not attempt to pass. Suddenly, the vehicle came to an abrupt stop, and the driver motioned my friend to “go around,” which she did.

The man driving the vehicle pulled back out behind her, and began flashing his lights and tailgating her until they both reached the next traffic light. At this point, he gets out of the car and approaches her window. He begins screaming about her “tailgating,” and talking about how he has “children in the car.” Not that it matters, but my friend looked in her rearview mirror and saw no children. Despite his claim about his “children,” this irate “gentleman” decided it would be a good idea to pound on my friend’s car window and yell a rainbow’s worth of naughty words. Legally, does that count as assault, or merely intimidation?

As my friend recounted the story, I asked how she reacted to all of this. Apparently, she didn’t react. She didn’t say anything, and she didn’t get out of the car (smart girl). When the light turned green, she pulled away, but neglected to get the other driver’s license plate number. She called the police from her cell phone, but without his license plate number, she was unable to give them enough information to track down the road rage offender.

If by some miracle that gentleman is reading this blog, or if you recognize your own behavior in this story, I only have one question – What in God’s name are you thinking? What kind of person waltzes up to someone’s car window at a stop light and pulls a Conan the Barbarian? Obviously someone with LOTS of issues who believes that this type of activity is acceptable in our culture.

In Howie’s article, he cites a study done by Dr. Leon James, a professor of psychology at the University of Hawaii and Web master of DrDriving.org. He is also the co-author of "Road Rage and Aggressive Driving" with his wife, Diane Nahl.

James began studying driving psychology about 20 years ago after his wife told him that her mother thought he took turns too fast. Over a period of self-study, he said he was amazed by the mistakes he made and the aggressive thoughts he experienced toward other drivers. He recorded them via his "Speakaloud" method. Using his method on students, he discovered that road rage is a "cultural phenomenon." "We call the back seat of the car the 'road rage nursery', where (young children) pick up all the driver's bad habits," James said. "It's a cultural temper tantrum."

I like that turn of phrase – cultural temper tantrum. I’m going to throw it out there next time some jerk cuts in front of me on the highway. 

“Hey, pal. Move your cultural temper tantrum off the road!”

"If you've seen me on the show with Alec Baldwin, then you know it's sort of like watching Fred Astaire dance with a hat rack and after a while you're like, 'Oh, that hat rack is pretty good too.' And you've given an award to the hat rack and I thank you." — Tina Fey accepting the award for female actor in a comedy series during Sunday night's SAG Awards.

According to the Associated Press, a study conducted by two nonprofit journalism organizations – the Center for Public Integrity and the Fund for Independence in Journalism - found that President Bush and top administration officials made hundreds of false statements about Iraq in the two years following 9/11.They said the statements "were part of an orchestrated campaign that effectively galvanized public opinion and, in the process, led the nation to war under decidedly false pretenses."

Well, no duh. I don’t think anyone in America, reading this article over their morning coffee, was “shocked or awed” by this announcement.

The AP article noted that White House spokesman Scott Stanzel did not comment on the merits of the study but reiterated the administration's position that the world community viewed Iraq's leader, Saddam Hussein, as a threat."The actions taken in 2003 were based on the collective judgment of intelligence agencies around the world," Stanzel said in the article.

We need to wake up people. This is not a war issue. It’s not about whether or not you support the troops. Frankly, it’s not even about whether or not you believe Bush is doing a good job. It’s about expecting honest, forthright answers from our elected officials, especially when people's lives are atstake. We expect our friends and loved ones to tell us the truth. We teach our children that “honesty is the best policy.” So why do we accept anything less from those who are supposed to lead this country?

The study included 935 false statements in the two-year period following the terrorist attacks. It found that in speeches, briefings, interviews and other venues, Bush and administration officials stated unequivocally on at least 532 occasions that Iraq had weapons of mass destruction or was trying to produce or obtain them, or had links to al Qaeda, or both. Was this an outright lie? Were they mistaken? Were they given bad intelligence? Or did they know that this was the only way to convince the American people to send our fathers and sons, wives and mothers, into war?"

It is now beyond dispute that Iraq did not possess any weapons of mass destruction or have meaningful ties to al Qaeda," according to Charles Lewis and Mark Reading-Smith of the Fund for Independence in Journalism, writing an overview of the study. "In short, the Bush administration led the nation to war on the basis of erroneous information that it methodically propagated and that culminated in military action against Iraq on March 19, 2003."

Bush was not alone in the study – a number of his top officials were also called on the carpet, including Vice President Dick Cheney, national security adviser Condoleezza Rice, Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld, Secretary of State Colin Powell, Deputy Defense Secretary Paul Wolfowitz and White House press secretaries Ari Fleischer and Scott McClellan.

Bush led with 259 false statements, 231 about weapons of mass destruction in Iraq and 28 about Iraq's links to al Qaeda. The center said the study was based on a database created with public statements over the two years beginning on Sept. 11, 2001, and information from more than 25 government reports, books, articles, speeches and interviews.

"The cumulative effect of these false statements - amplified by thousands of news stories and broadcasts - was massive, with the media coverage creating an almost impenetrable din for several critical months in the run-up to war," the study concluded.

"Some journalists - indeed, even some entire news organizations - have since acknowledged that their coverage during those prewar months was far too deferential and uncritical. These mea culpas notwithstanding, much of the wall-to-wall media coverage provided additional, 'independent' validation of the Bush administration's false statements about Iraq," it said.

Now that’s something to think about.

V (my 3-year-old daughter): Mommy, my nose is really not feeling good. It's all stuffed up. (sniff)

Me: It would feel better if you would just blow your nose. You're three now, you should be able to blow your own nose.

V: But Mommy, I wipe my own bum when I go poopy.

Me: Thank God for small miracles.

Truth is, indeed, stranger than fiction.

I was pleasantly surprised to find that my lie count was pretty low yesterday. As I tally up all the little white lies, whoppers and truth stretching I commit over the course of one week, I am sure the list will expand and grow into something truly horrifying.

But yesterday was a good day in the truth department. Here are the lies I told, the person to whom I was lying, and the reason why I lied.

1. A co-worker walks up to my desk. "Do you want to come learn how to use the new copier? The guy is going to give a demonstration," she says.

I respond, "Absolutely!" in my brightest, most cheerful voice. Then I spent the next 20 minutes staring blankly at the shiny new copier, humming Bonnie Raitt's "Louise" under my breath. I mean, who wants to stand there while some guy from the copier company tells you that the feeder tray holds up to 800 sheet of 8 1/2 x 11 paper?

 2. My boss, who is a painfully slow typist, called me in to his office so he could "dictate" an e-mail to me. I punched the appropriate computer keys while letting my mind wander. What was I going to make for dinner? Did I run the dishwasher this morning before I left? When is the city going to come haul away the dead tree that fell outside our office during that bad storm we had last week? At the end of the e-mail, my boss turned to me and asked, "How does that sound."

I replied, "It sounds great!" The reason? I really didn't want to have to spend half an hour rewriting an e-mail.

3. A co-worker is pregnant, and her due date is just around the corner. This is her first baby, so she is always looking to me for guidance and advice. We were talking about "packing the hospital bag" during lunch yesterday, and the conversation turned, as it inevitably does, to labor. My co-worker is genuinely freaked out about all of this, and I wanted to set her mind at ease, at least until that first contraction hits.

I say, "Really, you'll be fine. It's not that bad."

However, as anyone who has ever pushed a child out of their nether-regions knows, it's the most unbelievable, unbearable, "God must be a man" kind of pain out there. I figure, she'll know soon enough...

And that was it. No more lies yesterday. One was said to show that I'm a good sport (which I'm really not), one was said to spare myself professional agony, and one was said to spare the feelings of a friend. Not bad for a day's work!

Justine: I want to live with Billie Holiday.

Me: You do realize that she's dead.

 "I'm with you come rain or come shine..." BH

When I was nine, all I wanted for Christmas was a Barbie Dream House. I begged. I pleaded. I cried.

But after all was said and done on Christmas morning, my Barbies were still homeless, living out of their kickass 1970s van. But I did get a present that has outlasted all other childhood gifts - a green leather-bound book with gold trim. On the front, it said “The Complete Works of Charlotte and Emily Bronte.”

Of course, at nine, I could barely get through the first paragraph of “Wuthering Heights.” But every couple of months for the next three or four years I would return to this beautiful book that smelled of mystery and leather, attempting to untangle the seemingly impervious language.

By the time I reached high school, the Brontes were my favorite authors. I love the dark, gothic feel of their novels. I yearn for the turmoil, heartache and redemption that they so brilliantly dole out. I love the moors, the cold English countryside, the orphans, the tantrums, the untimely deaths. They wrote about the Industrial Revolution, struggles amongst the social classes, the rise and fall of religion… Their books taught me more about European history than four years of high school.

And while I love each and every Bronte story, “Wuthering Heights” stands above the rest as the culmination of everything good, solid and true about 19^th century British literature. Emily Bronte wrote only one novel in her lifetime. And what a piece of work it is. For me, it’s an early feminist tome that reflects the reality of life at the time it was written. Her characters are sharp, flawed, hateful people who made you love and despise them at the same time.

My sister (who is also a huge Bronte fan), myself and my grandfather had a debate last year about who was a better writer – the Brontes or Jane Austen. He chose Austen. We defended the Brontes. He said he liked how the heroes and heroines in Austen always seem to rise to the top at the end (Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility… need I say more?). My sister and I argued that the Brontes were more realistic. When the Brontes’ characters fall in love, it’s often unrequited. Most die at a young age.

Now that’s good stuff.

My friend WriterJax (link to her blog under "My Bookmarks) does not share my affinity for Bronte. I believe she actually wrinkled her nose and used the word “hate” to describe my precious “Wuthering Heights.” While she and I are both writers, with many of the same interests and passions, our taste in literature is quite different.

She prefers Aldous Huxley’s “Brave New World.” For me, that book is like Kryptonite. We were assigned “Brave New World” as part of our summer reading senior year. I got through one chapter, closed the book and vowed never to open its infernal pages again. I informed my AP English teacher that I just couldn’t do it, and begged to read something else. I think she assigned me Henrik Ibsen as a substitute, which I read with gusto.

Now, the time has come for the ultimate literary face-off. Writerjax and I initiated a War of the Words in which she will re-read “Wuthering Heights,” and I will defy all my internal promises and wade through “Brave New World.” Before embarking on this journey, Wrierjax talked about why she loves “BNW.” I extolled the many virtues of “WH,” Catherine, Heathcliff and the English moors. We go into this challenge with an open mind, focusing on the books’ positive qualities and the influence they have had on our lives and careers.

So here we go. What do you think? Which book to you prefer? Are you enchanted by Catherine, Edgar and Heathcliff’s never-ending love triangle that ends in death and despair? Or do you prefer Huxley’s vision of a utopian society?

For me, the choice is simple”

“I sought, and soon discovered, the three headstones on the slope next the moor: the middle one grey, and half buried in heath: Edgar Linton's only harmonized by the turf and moss creeping up its foot: Heathcliff's still bare.

I lingered round them, under that benign sky; watched the moths fluttering among the heath and harebells, listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass, and wondered how anyone could ever imagine unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth.”

“Sorry, we can’t make it to your son’s piano recital tonight – I’m sick with the flu.”

Translation: I’d rather watch my dog lick his butt than sit through your kid’s recital.

“I mailed that payment two weeks ago. It must have gotten lost in the mail.”

Translation: I spent the money for the electric bill on martinis and shoes.

“Mom, I’ve got to get off the phone now. The dog just pooped on the rug.”

Translation: If I have to listen to one more offhand comment about my career choices, I’m going to need a sedative.

“I have to leave work early today – I have a doctor’s appointment.”

Translation: I just want to go home, stretch out on the couch and watch “The People’s Court.”

We all do it. Whether big or small, our lives are filled with lies.

Some are made to spare people’s feelings…

“No, I think your orthopedic shoes are really cute.”

Or to get ourselves out of a sticky situation…

“I had no idea he was married.”

Or to make our life a little easier…

“I’ll call you back later…”

I happened upon an article on cnn.com today that really made me think about how often, and why, we lie.

"In everyday life, people are often telling lies. Not to get something concrete that they want, like more money, but for psychological reasons," said Bella DePaulo, a visiting professor at the University of California at Santa Barbara whose research specialties include lying and other forms of deception.

This should be interesting.

Renaldo Lapuz, a contestant on American Idol Season 7, singing to Simon during his AI audition. You really have to see it to believe it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MAP3ZdXeWAk