President Obama calls Wall Street bonuses of $20 billion “shameful” but calls millions given to his campaign “contributions.”

Coca-Cola is dropping the word “classic” from its label, which is a “classic” way to garner media attention when you have no new products to hawk.

A 4.5 magnitude earthquake rattled Seattle temporarily disrupting the manufacture of crystal meth in the greater Northwest.

Bisphenol A, a controversial chemical used to harden plastics for baby bottles and food containers, appears to remain in the body much longer than thought. Just like they said in the movie The Graduate in the 1960s, the future is in “plastics!”

Suzanne Somers’ claims she’s controlled menopause for 10 years by taking supplements. Too bad she couldn’t control the health of her acting career after Three’s Company.

A fired Fannie Mae worker is accused of planting a virus designed to destroy the company’s computer data. Voila! No more foreclosures!

A Florida couple has had their dead dog cloned. Given the average age of Floridians, the dog is sure to outlive the owners so they better get themselves cloned too.

Home prices fell at a record annual pace in November allowing the Grinch to not only steal Christmas but New Year’s too.

Income worries dragged down consumer confidence to a record low in January but debt is at an all time high so bankers are still celebrating.

The Senate has passed a bill to delay the nationwide switch to digital TV but is still spending our tax money to tell everyone to hurry up and wait.

Bruce Springsteen will perform at the Super Bowl; let’s hope there’s no wardrobe malfunction of Little Stevie Van Zandt’s bandanna.

21-year-old actress Evan Rachel Wood denies rumors she made out with 56-year-old Mickey Rourke but Mickey’s had so much plastic surgery, his face is only 30 so even if it did happen, it’s OK.

James Bond’s Daniel Craig will play an evil sailor in an upcoming Steven Spielberg movie so he’ll still get to drink martinis but this time with a pet parrot.

A health group claims high fructose corn syrup trace is the reason why trace levels of mercury are showing up in processed foods. Umm, sweet and deadly! What a combination. The government should include that in the food pyramid.

Children who take medications for attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) may rarely experience some disturbing side effects, such as hallucinations. Cool. So they can’t concentrate and they see things! I’m sure street drug dealers have already discovered this.

Scientists say they have devised a mouth swab test which could provide insight into your genetic risk of developing breast cancer. Millions of men will be lining up to perform this test.

Michelle Obama wore a gold dress for the inauguration proving she knows the money her husband will spend on an economic stimulus isn’t worth the paper on which it’s printed so she’s wearing her cash.

Apparently the outgoing Vice President took a page from Michael Jackson by arriving at the Capitol in a wheelchair for the inauguration. Cheney was probably so pissed off he couldn’t stand up.

The French government plans to spend up to 6 billion Euros to bail out it ailing auto industry. As Yogi Berra would say it’s déjà vu all over again. The French must be fit to be tied because their government is imitating America.

US Airways sent checks for $5,000 to each passenger who was on the plane that crashed in the Hudson River last week. That sure makes me want to fly over water! As long as I live through a wreck I’d be five grand in the black.

The New York Times has borrowed $250 million a Mexican billionaire to stay afloat. You know the economy is bad when an American company is borrowing from a rich Mexican! If things keep going south, soon we’ll all be running over the Rio Grande. Remember, bring plenty of bottled water.

Scientists claim women have a harder time saying no to their favorite foods which isn’t bad if your favorites include fruit but if a real problem if coffee cake takes the top spot in your tummy.

If you’re truly crazy, you wouldn’t hear voices in your head. You would hear voices in other people’s heads. And they wouldn’t be talking to you either.

Life is not about survival of the fittest. It’s about survival of the smartest. Especially those who know they’re not fit.

Religion is not the opiate of the masses; it’s television or so the ad said.

The last great year for America was 1945. It’s been downhill every since with occasional stops in the freefall for drugs, food, and sex. We’re an empire in recline.

Good intentions lead to hell while bad intentions lead to purgatory. No intentions lead to the couch.

Online social networking has replaced offline gatherings by allowing people to be friends without working at it. It’s the ultimate revenge of the nerds, popular without pain.

The job market was even weaker than earlier thought at the end of 2008; soon there may not be someone left to report how many are unemployed.

Chipmaker Intel said fourth-quarter sales would fall short of its already reduced forecast but demand might increase as Europeans burn computers to heat their homes.

A government report shows a huge buildup in crude supplies but prices at the pump went up recently leaving most of us to wonder how much we could get for our cars in a trade for bikes.

Prosecutors say accused swindler Bernard Madoff mailed $1 million worth of diamonds, watches and other jewelry violating a court order. Hey, at least he didn’t mail anthrax!

A dispute between Russia and Ukraine over natural gas is leaving Europe in the cold. What ever happened to the good old days when the Russians were ready to blow everyone away with nuclear missiles? Now they’d rather shut off the gas.

Mississippi has the highest teen birth rate in the United States. Apparently they like to go deep in the South.

Two new studies claim 54 percent of teens who use MySpace often discuss sexual behavior, substance abuse, or violence on the site but half of those might be 55-year-old sex offenders posing as teen girls so that’ll skew the results.

Curtain opens, stage black, spotlight focused on man with curly hair who bolts upright in bed…

Kenny G: I’ve produced 12 studio albums, 5 holiday albums, 2 live albums, and 8 Greatest Hits packages which some critics claim proves Armageddon has begun but have yet to produce enough exciting new material for a 13th album. I wish I could sleep!

Kenny buries his face in his hands.

Mist begins to waft across the stage.

A door lit from beyond by a “heavenly light” opens and in walks Count Basie.

The strains of One O’clock Jump, one of Basie’s theme songs, can be heard as he walks through the door.

Kenny G: Who’s there?

Count: It’s me, Count Basie, don’t you know your jazz heritage? Oh, I forgot you’re one of those easy listening artists misclassified as jazz. You can just call me the Ghost of Past Jazz.

Kenny G: I’m stuck. I can’t seem to come up with another album of material.

Count: Why not just record cats screwing? That’s what most of your albums sound like anyway!

Kenny G: I’m serious!

Count: So I’m I! Why not consider working with musicians who are better than you. I’ve worked with some of the greats, Louie Armstrong, Billie Holiday, and Ella Fitzgerald. Who have you worked with?

Kenny G: I’ve worked with a lot of the modern greats, Dudley Moore, Michael Bolton, and Whitney Houston.

Count: You call those people great? Dudley’s dead, Michael cut his hair and hasn’t put out a Grammy winning album since, and Whitney was too busy smoking’ crack to care about good music. You have to work with people who will help you to discover a soul for jazz! It’s not supposed to smooth. It’s supposed to be ragged, passionate, and erratic and at times smooth but there must be some tension to create great music. Remember when you were a teenager?

Kenny G: Yes, when I worked with Barry White and played with his orchestra when I was just 17. He was impressed with my mastery of the blues scale!

Count: Yes, get back to that. Get back to the funk, blues, jazz, and passion of Barry White and his orchestra.

Count slowly steps out of the door and into a mist.

Kenny G: If only I could sleep.

A knock at the window.

Kenny G: Who’s there?

Dave Brubeck: You don’t recognize the improvisational jazz piano of one of the greats? It’s me Dave Brubeck or the Ghost of Jazz Not-So-Past.

Kenny G: Count Basie was already here. What could you possibly want?
Dave: Some of my best music and most joyful times came from playing my with quartet. Have you considered working with other musicians?

Kenny: Well, Count made the same point but I told him I’ve worked with some of the greats, Dudley, Michael, Whitney, et al.

Dave: Et al, now there’s a great jazz musician! Kenny, your stuff is too smooth. In fact, it’s so smooth its like a vanilla milkshake, no taste unless you add hot fudge. You have to learn to employ different time signatures while superimposing contrasting rhythms, meters, and tonalities. That’s how you create real jazz!

Kenny: I will!

Dave: And remember, try a different sax every now and then. You keep playing that soprano and people are going want to kill themselves while listening to one of your “albums.” Change it up! Take risks! And for God’s sake, get a hair cut! It’s 2009!

Dave climbs out the window and disappears into the night to the sounds of Dave Brubeck’s jazz piano.

Kenny tosses and turns trying to sleep until an eerie red glow and more mist appears below his bed.

From underneath is bed fellow modern jazz saxophonist Dave Koz appears shrouded by a long dark robe until he removes the hood.

Kenny G: Are you the Ghost of Future Jazz?

Dave: Shakes his head yes without saying a thing except to play a few notes on his saxophone hanging around his neck.

Kenny G: I thought you were Richard Marx? But I know he no longer has much a career either.

Dave holds the sax angrily above his head as if threatening to hit Kenny.

Kenny G: I don’t want to be you. In fact, I don’t want to be me. I’ll repent and shake things up. I’ve listened to the spirits. I know what I need to do.

As Kenny keeps repeating the above dialogue after having fallen to his knees, Dave Koz disappears into the red mist.

The stage does dark and then all lights come on as if morning has arrived.

Kenny wakes up, and begins to dial his cell phone.

Kenny: Hello, is this Bugge Wesseltoft, the improvisational jazz musician, pianist, and composer from Norway who’s played with John Scofield? Are you busy this month? I’d like to record with you! Great! I’ll see you soon. Kenny calls Christian McBride, famous jazz bassist who’s played with Herbie Hancock, Chick Corea, and James Brown. Kenny: Christian? It’s me, Kenny G! I need some soul, funk, and r & b on my next record. Are you free? Great! I’ll see you soon!

Kenny: (excitedly) I’ve got the name of my next album Kenny G: Drops His Balls!

Curtain closes to the sounds of improvisational jazz.