Not that there’s anything wrong with this and explanations number in the hundreds, but the Getty Brothers haven’t written one of their “City Brights” blog posts in some time.
Almost 3 weeks to be exact.
Now, I have to admit I enjoyed their last post quite a bit. And I’ve been looking for more from them, not because I love being riled up by the fact that their maids wear uniforms while my Imelda insists on that dreadful sweatshirt and leggings combo. No, I was hopeful they might be funny again.
Their first post, if you’ll recall, was a little condescending, a knowing taunt to the commoners that was perhaps a stab at getting our vitriol out of the way. I’d anticipated their future posts to offer a patronizing eyeroll at the exhaustion of mastering a formal place setting or perhaps explain to us what Europe is like.
“Nonsense.” A seasoned blogger assured me. “They’ll get bored with it.”
“Trust me. I give it 2 months.”
I certainly hoped not. I was beginning to enjoy the fantasy of running into one of them and announcing, “I’ve been on a safari too, asshole. Get over yourself.” And their post on politics, well…the idea that immigrants should get an education because they might rob you is fucking fabulous. Still convinced this was all a joke, it was becoming a joke I was enjoying.
But suddenly, I sensed a shift in Getty tone.
Their last post on SFGate, a piece on crazy mail, was rife with clever jokes from the timeless and local “So I Married an Ax Murderer.” Billy and Peter even managed to detail the bond of our shared cinematic experience without dropping that they saw “So I Married an Ax Murderer” performed live and in person for them by Mike Myers and Phil Hartman, the latter of whom they had brought back from the dead.
Well, shit. Maybe they’ve caught their stride. Maybe they’ve let go of the need to burn Benjamins in front of us while giggling, “I bet this drives you nuts!” Maybe deep down, not even that deep, they’re smart, funny people with smart, funny things to say.
And as soon as I turn the corner on the Gettys, poof. They’re gone.
I’m sure Billy and Peter are busy throwing Faberge eggs at the side of a wall just for the hell of it, and if I’m lucky, Peter Getty will send me a 14 page manifesto on my intellectual laissez faire. Perhaps he’ll even throw in some over-used literary diss, about how I probably just love John Grisham because I have the mental creativity of a Maury viewer.
Truth be told, I hope this boredom prediction is wrong. And I hope they come back.
Because I love a good SIMAAM reference. And Imelda needs a reality check on those leggings.