"Dearest Anderson, how I pine for thee . . . "

I have had a crush on Anderson Cooper since the late nineties early naughty aughties. During my lack of sleep stupor he would always read me the news at 3am on ABC World News Now. What drew me to him? Was it the beady eyes or the salt and pepper hair? Was it the accordion player? Was I confusing love with a need for companionship while I wasted away an early morning hour gazing at the tube? I would have to say none of the above. Anderson Cooper is hilarious, smart, and although has taken great criticism for this recently, very debonair and stylish. Yes, I know that he wore Armani down in New Orleans during his coverage of Katrina. He’s frickin’ Gloria Vanderbilt’s son for Mother Jonah’s sake! Yes, I know that while he was down there he started crying during his report and that people feel that “real” journalists simply cannot allow themselves to display such moments of weakness. But, really wouldn’t you rather watch someone who has really emotions and isn’t just a puppet for a news network?

Here is a snippet of Anderson at his best: Regarding his appearance on Celebrity Jeopardy:
"It was called the Power Players edition, though I'm not sure why I was in it because I'm neither a "playa" nor a person of power. The experience really made me realize how much of a loser I am, because of how much I got into it.” I love how he uses the word playa and that he admits to getting obsessed with being on Jeopardy. I love the self-deprecation. I am a sucker for it.

What has most recently contributed to my unending fascination with Mr. Cooper is his itunes celebrity playlist. Yo La Tengo! The Clash! Pavement! Elliot Smith! Blur! Curtis Mayfield! Are you kidding me? Did you read my mind while I was watching you during an impressionable post teen period of my life? He says the following about Pavement, “Some bands get a bit full of themselves, thinking they are poets rather than rock stars . . . Pavement were poets who were convinced they were rock stars.” This is a genius statement from someone I will continue to watch until I get glaucoma, and even then I will use my Medicare funds for some new eyeballs or steal a set from Gertrude, my arch nemesis at the retirement home.