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| last morning shenanigans |
Okay, so one of my favorite people on this crazy blue planet, Jimmy McParkway is leaving for greener pastures in the Boston television market.
:....(
That's my lame attempt at an emoticon of me, crying. I'm bad at emoticons.
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| breaking news... "two monkeys are still at large"* *actual newsfeed statememt |
I've been stalling all week cooking, cleaning a bit, grocery shopping... Okay, so I should be doing those things ANYWAY, but the point is I just couldn't bring myself to sit down and write this farewell. I even took a yoga class, for Chrissake!
A YOGA CLASS!!!
People, I must have been desperate. I am not that flexible. And it was hot yoga, too. Steam room heat AND my own personal waves of summer? I was literally combustible. I kept waiting for my flaming-red hair to ignite. That is some huge denial. I suppose it was my misguided belief that as long as I didn't commit his departure to virtual pen and paper, he wasn't leaving.
But he is.
And I miss him already.
Blerg...
Jimmy brought a youthful exuberance to the Special K. Six years ago he walked into our studio and breathed life into the stale atmosphere. He's loud, boisterous and energetic even at 4:30 in the morning. His humor is delightfully skewed.
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| CSI Special K Rug Installation Division |
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| Sushi face with my cohort in crazy |
He was always entertaining us with his rapier wit, impressions of Sean Connery, Al Gore and Minnesota accents as well as a perfectly executed Elaine Benis dance.
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| who's leading this mess? |
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| Traffic A-Go-Go |
Jimmy is also a magnificent klutz at times. I used to lovingly refer to him as our golden retriever pup because he couldn't quite judge the size of his large paws when he walked. Some mornings there would be loud crashing noises coming from his area behind the set during the show. He'd fall off his chair (he was young and pliable, ergo no hip fracture), trip on a chair leg running for the four-shot or send an unsecured set piece flying in a thundering boom live... on the air.
That STILL makes me laugh out loud. I love him...
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| no, that is not a tampoon |
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| Mothra...DEAD |
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| Stay... Stay... |
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| "Trim Mon" our Rasta cam |
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| time to get rid of the little cap'n in him |
He was the one who introduced me to the wonderful world of social media via Facebook and Twitter, is everyone's IT person for the iPhone and is my main source for hilarious YouTube videos like Get Your Betty Ready, Sofa King and Conan's hilarious Power to the V. Not to mention this guy.
I can't hear this without thinking about Jimmy and I dancing in the chroma key like a couple of big ole dorks. "It's just like meenee mall."
I got all my greatest blog fodder from him.
Between shows we'd dance around the studio, record hoola-hoop antics and be just plain irreverent. He was usually the instigator of the the marvelous mayhem. We call this one, Absolute Ball Room.
It was always quiet in the studio when he was on vacation. It's deadly still now. Although we're trying to uphold the high standard of malarkey set over the last six years, it's just not the same without Jimmy.
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| happy 30th, Dorf |
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| traffic with a side of lieder hosen |
On-air talent come and go in this business. It's a fact. I try not to get attached because it hurts too much to say goodbye to the ones I care about. But occasionally someone comes along who is too special not to embrace. Someone who's silly antics makes any day better. Someone who is not merely a coworker, but a friend.
So thank you for brightening my world, Jimmy. Thank you for your boundless humor, your indomitable spirit and for one particular Kingpin-inspired video that will forever be on my iPhone to cheer me up when I'm missing you. You know which one I'm talking about.
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| dude, your prom dates a hootchie |
Although it pains me to see you leave Pittsburgh, I know this is the right move for you. Please know you will forever occupy a special place in my heart. All the best to you always, friend. See you soon.
XOXO
P.S.: You're gonna be wicked awhesome in Baaahston.
2 comments:
Hey, Marie. I've never really met you, other than stumbling blindly around the first floor a couple of times when I shoulda been upstairs working. But I somehow ran across yer blog and read this piece about Jimmy.
I didn't even cry at the end of Old Yeller, but this made me shed a misty tear. Dammit.
Don't tell Lokay. I miss him too.
Hi Bill! You're secret's safe with me and the three people who read this. Ha Ha.
It's definitely too quiet without him. Hopefully we'll be throwing a welcome back shindig in two years.
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