An Important Message

Ladies and Gentlemen, this week's column is going to be a little bit different than what you're used to. For one, this week's column was actually written by a group of monkeys in adorable, 1930s, bellboy outfits. The cuteness level is beyond comprehension. I'm kidding, of course, though I am wearing a fez and despite what everyone has told me, I feel quite good in it. But in all seriousness, this week's column is the culmination of several years of work on myself that I'm proud of. I suffer from a rare, little known medical condition. I've also been asked to become the new national spokesperson for this condition, in a new series of PSAs that, hopefully, will bring more light to the cause.

I suffer from what is known as “Sleep Jagger”. “Sleep Jagger” is a condition that one in every five hundred Americans suffer from, though it's not life threating, “Sleep Jagger” does have negative effects on your life, your relationships, and loved ones. The condition, known medically as “pleasedtomeetyouhopeyouguessmynameanosis”, is much like sleep walking. Only instead of walking, you're doing an impression of Rolling Stones front man, Mick Jagger. I starting Sleep Jaggering about five years ago, it was during my first marriage.

My wife, at the time, woke one night with a start. She found that I was not in bed, nor in the bedroom or the adjoining bathroom. She was frightened by the sounds of someone downstairs. She reached into the closet and grabbed the emergency baseball bat that we kept in there. As she slowly made her way downstairs, being as quiet as possible, she found me. I was in the living room, dancing on top of the coffee table. Lips jutted out as much as possible, arms moving much like a T. Rex's do, and belting out “Start Me Up.”

My wife thought I was just up to one of my usual silly shenanigans, though I'd never done such at four in the morning before. She dropped the bat, came into the living room, walked up to me and said “What in the hell are you doing?” Just like you shouldn't approach, or wake, a sleep walker, you shouldn't do the same with a Sleep Jagger-er. I noticed her, rushed over, starting singing “Emotional Rescue”--in a very sad falsetto—and demanded she throw her panties at me. I don't remember this at all, you never do. All I recall of that episode, is waking up the next morning on the couch, and the discovery that I had dressed our cat up like Keith Richards.

My wife was unable to deal with being married to a Sleep Jagger sufferer, and we divorced not too long after this occurred. It doesn't even have to be night for it to happen, it can occur, albeit sporadicly, during naps. Just ask my family how I ruined Thanksgiving when, post meal nap, I hopped up on the dinner table and sang “Brown Sugar”. This is why it's so important that more people know about this condition. There is no known cure for Sleep Jagger, but therapy can help reduce the number of occurrences.

That's why I'm proud to say that I am teaming up with The National Association of Sleep Jagger Sufferers to help raise awareness. In the following weeks, you'll see the PSAs featuring yours truly roll out. Sleep Jagger is nothing to be afraid of, and if you discover that someone you love is suffering from Sleep Jagger, keep in mind that you must not wake them. Just quietly call their doctor, and wait for the guitar break in “Sympathy for The Devil” to end. Together, we can stop more relationships from dissolving due to this rare condition. Thank you.