Nobody seems to have a good word for Patrick Stewart these days. The disapproving tongues began to wag when he started consorting with women several decades his junior. The latest one is a jazz singer called Sunny Ozell, who reminds me of the Brazilian beauty queen who turned out to be a transsexual. (I cast no aspersions on her femininity by saying this – Brazil is famous for its authentic-looking shemales, and Patrick Stewart isn’t the kind of man who wants more than one dick in his bed.)
I well remember the chorus of reproof that greeted the news of their budding romance. Most of the hostile reaction was obviously jealousy and sour grapes, but a few sober heads wondered what a couple so disparate in years would have to talk about. My own gut feeling is that conversation plays a minor part in these May-to-December relationships. One thing I learned in my circus days is that nubile young women are prone to flights of fancy. Having grown up watching Star Trek: The Next Generation, Sunny must imagine she is hurtling through space at warp speed whenever Patrick takes her for a spin on his moped. I dare say he repeats all the famous catch phrases to reinforce the illusion of boldly going where no jazz singer has allowed him to go before.
It disappoints me that people have accused Sunny of being a gold-digger. There is absolutely no evidence that she intends to marry Captain Picard or otherwise milk his considerable assets. Why can’t people just accept she might have a fetish for older men? Aren’t women allowed to be eccentric?
The case of 21-year-old Kerry Trebilcock is a good illustration of how quirky the human female can be. She has confessed to eating about 4000 dish sponges seasoned with a variety of condiments. Kerry remembers the first sponge she ate:
"I took out a new sponge from a packet and had an overwhelming desire to eat it. I sat down with a glass of water and chewed the sponge until it was gone. It tasted of nothing but I found eating it enjoyable."
It isn’t every day you find a woman with such a powerful natural urge. Let’s hope she finds an eligible bachelor who can see her potential.
Getting back to Patrick Stewart, what can he do to improve his image? If I were his publicist, I would advise him to befriend an animal species and sing its praises. John Cleese got into everyone’s good books by making a documentary about lemurs, which drew attention away from his own turbulent private life. If the public associated Patrick with a charismatic creature, they might give him more leeway to sleep with women less than half his age.
What species would be suitable for him? Obviously not gorillas, who are far too hairy to be courted by a follicly-challenged human. The ostrich looks like the ideal candidate to me, being an entertaining bird without a famous human champion. The resemblance of Patrick’s bald head to an ostrich egg would be a fitting point of convergence.
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