Dear Hank,

Feb 24, 2007

Okay, I’m throwing my hat in the ring. No, not as a Presidential hopeful but as a claimant to being the father of Anna Nichol Smith’s baby. (I know earlier I said it was Tyrell Owens, but that’s old news and besides Tyrell is so yesterday.)

Why? Well there’s the slim chance that I might get part of that 88 million dollars. Or is it 475? Either one would be good.

Of course this would have implied that I had intercourse with Ms. Smith. But before we get into that let me go try to help out Keith Oberman who seems to be having trouble fathoming what all the hoopla is about. Either he is playing stupid or he hasn’t been paying attention for the last 15 years.

Let’s give old Keith a timeline:

First there is the Playboy picture of A.N.S. that is a classic. She is standing in near profile near a cliff and her body is unbelievable in that picture. Let me tell you how good that picture is. When my dad was suffering from the early stages of dementia and wasn’t able to do things in order and couldn’t remember how to open his browser I had as a default, with one click, that picture. If he couldn’t get to that picture I knew he hadn’t gotten past the first step. And believe me, he wanted to get to that first step. It was heart breaking when he’d tell me that he couldn’t find “his girl friend.” (Wait a minute, maybe my Dad is the father of Anna’s baby?)

Then we go into the “downward cycle chunky periods”: Anna’s looking a little heavy, then real heavy, then she gets a TV reality show and we get to hear her talk – big mistake. She’s awful on TV. So bad, in fact, that it was like the Mets when they started; everyone came out to see how bad they were. I couldn’t watch her show. The voice was too annoying; don’t even get me started on whatever she was doing because it was terrible. At about this time someone comes up with pictures of her from when she was booked as a teenager for being drunk. Not pretty.

Then she marries that old wizen multi-millionaire; no, wait – billionaire and there is that photo of her next to this guy with one foot in the grave and he’s smiling. Why is he smiling some people ask (like Keith)? Why is he smiling? I can’t believe anyone would ask that question. He may get a chance to knock the bottom out of that bodacious piece of ass next to him and he’s probably deaf so he can’t hear that annoying voice. What’s the question?

His son is pissed off. Damn right he’s pissed off. He sees his fortune going to some ex-stripper, Playmate of the Year, who grew up in a trailer.

The old coot dies and the son sues and the whole case gets tangled up in the courts. The son wins – I think. Anna counter sues. It comes out that the old guy definitely wanted Anna to get something and that there was definite affection between the two of them.

In this time period Anna goes on some slim down stuff, loses a ton of weight, is starting to look pretty hot again, and becomes the spokes person for the weight loss stuff. Come back trail.

Meanwhile she sues the son; the case goes to the Supreme Court and she goes in looking really good and very professional and very hot. She wins. What she wins isn’t clear. Meanwhile, the son of the old man dies.

She has a baby and her 20 year old son dies. Who knew she had a son until he died? And the son dies at about the same time she has the baby.

So for Keith’s benefit that brings us up to just before she dies.

Why are people infatuated with her?

You have got to be kidding. But let me help you out.

Let’s go through her death.

She dies.

Mysteriously. All of a sudden the cable news services trot out experts and dear friends of hers and relatives all of whom know with pretty great certainty what caused her death: drugs, diet medicine, post-partum depression, wild life style, etc.

Then to make it even better the various friends and associates start discrediting each other and some get blamed for her death: was it murder? Was it negligent homicide?

Then it comes out that the father of the child is still in question and that she was not in fact married to her lawyer who claims to be the father of the child as does another man.

The lawyer comes across as a opportunistic money grubbing ambulance chaser (skirt chaser) and it is revealed that while Anna Nichol had a temperature of 104 and was being iced down he went out on a boat and hung out with friends while she died – nice guy.

The most likely candidate for real father is being shunted off to the side.

If Anna Nichol left no will maybe Mom gets a shot at the cash. Turns out ANS hated her mother; claims her mom beat her. It seems like a replay of the end of million dollar baby.
The trailer trash family comes a callin’.

Keith what is your question? This is a made in America TV soap drama. It’s real. It’s insane. It’s crazy, but it’s real.

Now it gets even more interesting. Zsa-Zsa Gabor’s husband claims he’s the father. Someone says it’s the old coot – frozen sperm and all that. A former body guard says it could be him; then pictures of her hugging the Bahamian tourist minister, or some such person, surfaces. She’s in bed with him! Yikes! Then it turns out she was sick in bed and greeting everybody in bed that came to her party. Question, if you are so sick you can’t get out of bed why are you having a party? This is too good.

Now, we get the reverse Cinderella story. How? We have a glass slipper and we need to find out who it fits. Except, this time the person to be fitted is a man and the slipper is the DNA. To make it even better we have the evil mom in the picture. What’s not to like here?

We got: sex, lots of sex, beauty, top of the world/ fall from grace/ get fat and ugly/ get rich/ get gorgeous again/ death of a loved one/ birth/ multiple fathers/ death/ and a lot of money.

And Keith you ask why are people fascinated? Come on.

I think you have a shot at being the dad.

Sign up now. Certified technicians with cotton swabs are standing by.

I never got to the ‘How I could have had intercourse with Nichol question’ did I? Well, before I go there let me tell you that the father of this child may be Kevin Federline and that Britney Spears may also have a claim on this child and that, in fact, this could be what broke up Britney and K-Fed.

Think about it. It could be that back when Kevin and Britney were together they had sex and then went to a party where Anna Nichol was and that Britney and Anna had a lesbian liaison and some of Kevin’s sperm entered Anna at this time making Kevin the father – oh yeah. But in that case Britney would have some claim to the child as well – wouldn’t she? Now equally likely is the situation where at that party Kevin porked Nichol in which case he’s the dad. Now whether Britney would have any claim on the child would be dependent on whether or not she and Anna got it on, because then it would be hard to say exactly how old Kevin’s seed got into ANS. If she did not get it on with Anna and Kevin did; well, that could have been the straw that broke the marriage’s back. Let’s face it when it comes to bodies Britney can’t compete with Anna.

So there you have it.

How could I be the father? I don’t think it would be prudent for me to reveal that at this time. However, my claim does put me in with the first ten to come forward and make a claim. You’ll have to wait for the details. I’m holding out for a million dollar interview with E!

When Morning Guilds The Sky

There’s a church hymn, one of my mother’s favorites, called When Morning Guilds The Sky. Every morning when I come upstairs to have coffee and feed the dog I look out at the rising sun and the effect it has on the sky and I wonder, out loud oftentimes, in amazement, at the display I see. How can it be so different every time? So subtlety beautiful? So many different shades of color? So spectacular? No wonder we and ancient people believed that there’s a god. It’s so incredible; like the Rolling Stones said Like a new born baby, it just happens everyday; and every day it’s a new born baby and every baby is beautiful.

Rick Kinnaird

Feb 5, 2007