Here in Sandy Springs, Georgia, far removed from the madding crowd of LA or NYC, there have recently been Justin Bieber sightings. That’s right. J.B. is apparently living here for a couple of months if not longer. The house he is renting looks a lot like a spaceship (see web link below) which really makes it fit in quite nicely with the traditional Georgian brick style residences in the surrounding area…not. Of course this may also help to explain why my newly renovated Pirate-themed house with full-sized poop deck in the backyard is not exactly going to be an easy sell…ever. Anyway, earlier this month JB rented out a local video arcade and his bodyguard was involved in an unfortunate altercation that got him arrested. What you probably dont know is that Justin Bieber, like Michael Jackson, also may have a serious celebrity sleep problem. His nights are quite possibly a torturous time in which he and his bleary-eyed posse wander aimlessly through Atlanta’s affluent suburbs trying to occupy themselves and praying that Justin will finally just conk out and get some desperately needed ZZZs. Even high-grade medical marijuana (the cops confiscated 5 large bongs) has quite likely not helped JB hit the hay.The poor kid would probably trade all his fame and fortune for a good night’s sleep, a quiet romantic date and back rub (without a bogus paternity suit) and a half decent banana milk shake. With all the weed and late night cruising going on it’s amazing he doesnt weigh 300 lbs. I will chalk it up to a fast metabolism.
I gotta tell you, both as a father of three somewhat grown-up 20-something sons and as a somewhat grown-up Clinical psychologist (with ADHD), I feel bad for this kid. He is not living life in the normal pedestrian lanes like the rest of us and it doesn’t take binoculars from The Sharper Image to see the pretty boy train wreck “a comin”. That’s the helping professional in me talking. As a parent I found his “posture”, both physical and psychological in his recent viral video court depositions to be deplorable. I literally wanted to reach into the computer screen and slap him a few times, being careful to leave no permanent bruising on his baby face. As a result, I am offering my services to him, not for the romantic date or back rub, mind you, but instead, as an “outside the box” father figure, therapist and sleep disorder consultant. It’s a little like Dr. Conrad Murray was for Michael Jackson but without the giant tank of nitrous oxide, suitcase full of xanax bars and truckload of IV Propofol. Instead, I intend to instruct Justin in the ancient art and science of fatherly advise and balanced living, including “progressive relaxation”, mindful meditation, and finally, if necessary, taking a physician approved professionally prescribed and carefully supervised dose of Ambien (Zolpidem). Hopefully, unlike myself, he will not end up sleepwalking to the kitchen for fig newtons and a handful of mini-Snickers half a dozen times before the sun rises. His career (especially since he hasn’t had a hit song in awhile) depends on his good looks and lithe boyish frame. Developing a noticeable pot belly or face full of zits from getting stoned and binging on a three-pack of Oreos from Costco would be the equivalent of career suicide for JB at this point. Still I worry about him.
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Let’s face it, 19 years old is a critical age psychologically and one in which 98% of a national sample were found to have engaged in “unusually reckless stupid behavior that later they totally regretted” but now only their parents (and I quote) “cant f#$@%#@ believe how dumb, thoughtless and disrespecful they are”. For this reason, I feel compelled to take on this high profile case, both for Justin’s sake and for the sake of his lunatic fans who expect him to stay alive and remain “super cute” regardless of his drug issues, shitty attitude, and criminal record. The point is that for a small fee and perhaps a per-diem just shy of what Dr. Murray the incompetent cardiologist got for sexting his gfs while the King of Pop expired, I will stay awake and frosty while Justin sleeps like a baby in his Sandy Springs crib. Hell, if he wants to he can hang out at my place. I’ve got tons of pirate games to play, I’m extremely close to the SS Funhouse where all the “fun” happened the other day, and I can suggest all kinds of other age-appropriate skills to work on such as: 1) how to avoid confrontations with police officers 2) how to stay out of trouble 3) how to sit up straight and answer questions directly and not come off as a douche and 4) how to use ones better judgement with paparazzi including those with family members who happen to be judges or personal injury attorneys (see My Cousin Vinnie). Meanwhile, the Sandy Springs police have never ONCE missed stopping me for going 5 miles over the speed limit or, God forbid, not wearing my seat belt. Justin, for God sakes, please slow down, dont drag race, and dont drink and drive. Even if you are filthy rich and famous, are at your core just a normal bratty 19 years old, or even might be a stoner insomniac punk, your parents love you dearly and want you to grow up and someday come to experience the joy of parenting a rebellious teenager. Trust me, it will be very enlightening. Better yet..just call me and please wear your seat belt in the meantime.
Cliff Mazer, Ph.D. is a Clinical Psychologist and humorist living in Sandy Spring Georgia. He has survived three now grown up sons (and visa-versa) and loves everything Pirate. He blogs on Facebook and WordPress under the psuedonym, CaptCliff. Contact: 404-932-7193
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