he says he never loved you, dear...

THE best part of taking a day off is Montel Williams, hands down. And, as the gods appear to be smiling upon me, today’s episode? Psychic Sylvia Browne. If you haven’t seen Sylvia on Montel, you haven’t lived.
Years ago, Montel Williams, ever the tough talkin’ skeptic, had a panel of psychics on his show for the sole purpose of proving them liars through his very own brand of dim-witted investigative journalism. Sylvia, sitting there in her animal print caftan, smoker's voice and painted acrylic claws warned Montel to stay away from dogs, and most importantly, to keep his kids away from dogs. Montel scoffed at the notion, but I detected a hint of fear behind his eyes as he took us to commercial.
4 months later, Montel’s son was attacked by a dog.
Oh. My. God.
Sylvia Browne is now a regular guest on Montel, and her predictions are treated as gospel. Sylvia is, in addition to be certifiably insane, completely heartless and I suspect, makes things up just to fuck with people. Let me give you an example.
When Sylvia appears on Montel, which is pretty frequently, audience members are allowed to stand up and ask her questions or see if their dead relatives have messages from the grave. Sylvia will then tell them to go dig for treasure under some oak tree or make only left turns for 13 months, and they’ll sit down, satisfied and excited as Montel proudly observes and seriously contemplates.
Suddenly, this sweet looking young woman gets up and tells this long, boring sob story about how everyone in her family’s been dying and she’s barely holding on. Her brother died unexpectedly, her mother died of cancer, he father was killed in a car accident, her best friend got hit by a bread truck. Literally, everyone was, as Sylvia would say, “going through the tunnel.” So with tears in her eyes, this young woman tells Sylvia that the only person left in her life is her dear grandfather, who’s happy and healthy. And of course, she wants to make sure he’s okay and not going anywhere. Tell us, Sylvia. Tell us that he’s going to live for the next 20 years.
Sylvia’s response.
“He’ll be dead in 3 months, sweetie.”
The young woman bursts into tears, is escorted away and the microphone is quickly passed onto someone else, who is far more concerned with his nagging suspicion that someone is secretly trying to poison him. Sylvia, needless to say, agrees.
The best part of the show is how seriously everyone takes Sylvia’s predictions and messages from heaven. It’s not like we check back in 3 months and make sure the grandfather actually died. We just assume that, of course, he passed away immediately and most likely while watching this very episode of Montel Williams.
This doesn’t mean, however, that if Sylvia Browne told me to wear a bulletproof vest every time I went into Old Navy, I’d roll my eyes and laugh.
I mean, come on. Montel’s kid was attacked by a dog…

***Uh, Sylvia's hosting a Psychic Mexican Riviera Cruise. I just booked by ticket. Who's in?