Anna Nicole strikes a blow for women's lib

It took 22 days for Anna Nicole Smith to be buried. That's nothing compared to poor James Brown. The Godfather of Soul, who left us with paternity issues of his own, is still being kept in a climate-controlled undisclosed location 75 days after his death.

New evidence suggests the body of Anna Nicole Smith, and the 400 million dollar fortune it holds the secret to, might have been returned to the earth too soon and could be needed above ground for more poking and prodding.

There have been a lot of wild claims on the paternity of Smith's sole living heir. OJ Simpson, he of "slow moving sperm," even chimed in the other day. But what if there was another child?

In a sort of convincing article in the Phoenix New Times, Johnny Soto, a member of the Native American Tohono O'odham nation, claims Anna Nicole Smith is the mother of his five-year old son.

Soto and Smith met when she was taking time out at the Arizona spa where he worked as a maintenance man. One thing led to another and there was a torrid three-month affair full of fried chicken consumption and her demands he kick off of their lovemaking with a "war dance."

Allegedly Smith became pregnant, although she hid it beneath her ever fluctuating weight.

Soto was able to provide a birth certificate with Smith listed as the mother, proof of cashed 10,000 dollar checks Soto claimed Smith sent him monthly for child support, as well as other written correspondences between the two.

The 5-year old Marshall -- named for the family behind the large fortune in question -- does bear a resemblance to his supposed mother, although a skeptic would point out Soto wasn't able to produce photos of himself or his son with Anna Nicole Smith, despite claiming they had a continuing relationship.

Still, if this tale is true, Anna Nicole Smith has struck quite a posthumous blow for women everywhere. No longer can only male celebrities go around wantonly making babies and paying their way out of acknowledgement and child rearing responsibilities. Maybe one day, due to the efforts of this modern day Susan B. Anthony, they will call it a maternity test.

Deceptive Godfather makes trouble from the grave

The late James Brown was always hard to size up, size-wise. He had that heightening pompadour, wore lifts, and was a constant whirl of movement, making it difficult to measure him against anyone or anything of known height.

Brown's death hasn't ended the debate over how tall he once was. Earlier this week 62-year old David Brooks Jr. and 70-year old Don Gulley, both of Atmore, Alabama, got into a heated argument over the Godfather of Soul's true height.

According to witnesses the argument escalated into a physical confrontation and ended with Brooks and Gulley exchanging gunfire. Brooks was hospitalized with two bullet wounds to the abdomen.

Because they are senior citizens living in Alabama, I will let them off the hook for not being as tech-savvy as they could be, but if you ever find yourself in a passionate debate over the height of your favorite celebrity please refer to the spectacular Internet resource celebheights.com.

The folks at Celebheights, through a careful process involving photographs, news accounts, biolographical material, message board discussion, and their extensive database of famous heights, are the last word on celebrity longitude. James Brown, for example, was 5'6.

Celebheights caters to our natural curiosity about how tall -- or, more likely, not tall -- our favorite movie stars, athletes and entertainers really are.

It could also save your life.

Death Watch: Saddam leaves them hanging edition

I went to bed last night safe in the knowledge that Saddam Hussein would be hung by Sunday and the rule of three -- the most sacred rule in all of Death Watching -- would reign.

But now the ingrates in the Iraqi government want to delay Hussein's execution by up to a month, leaving Gerald Ford and James Brown hanging, so to speak.

Since I'm not religious, I don't necessarily buy into the theory that when two prominent people die within a couple days of each other, but aren't quickly matched with a third appropriately prominent death, their two prominent souls must wander purgatory for an eternity.

But I will tell you this: When historians are forced to trio Ford and Brown with ne'er-do-well infielder Chris Brown -- whose claim to fame was missing a game for "sleeping on the wrong eye" -- it will constitute a stunning rebuke to the legacies of the 38th President and the "hardest working man in show business."

Four years ago the United States had the prescience to invade Iraq and capture and try for war crimes Iraq's world famous, despotic leader. Now when that same leader's timely execution could complete a proper send off for two great Americans it gets caught in some bureaucratic snag and might be delayed?

Sometimes you have to ask yourself -- what's the point?

Death watch: Two down and one to go edition

Death is a famously holiday averse fellow, and while you've been opening presents, stuffing your face with food, searching for after-Christmas bargains and preparing for New Years, the beat goes on for the angel with no body-fat and a scythe.

Last night Death snagged himself the biggest holiday prize of all: A United States President. Gerald Ford had already captured the admiration of Death Watchers everywhere with his grace and resilience* in face of mounting evidence of his impending demise. At 93, Ford was and will remain the longest living President in US history. George Herbert Walker Bush edges Jimmy Carter to grab the title of "oldest living President."

Like he always does, Death came in on Christmas. This year it was James Brown who paid the ultimate price for Death's workaholic tendencies. I don't have a lot to say about Brown because he was the "Godfather of Soul" and I find too much soul overwhelms me -- and by too much soul I mean any more than is in that Backstreet Boys' song you hate to admit is pretty good.

Nevertheless, James Brown's over-the-top style spawned some solid parodies I was able to appreciate, including this classic skit from Eddie Murphy.

Any Death Watcher worth his or her salt knows death comes in threes. Taking the star-power of Ford and Brown into account, the chances of Fidel Castro and Dick Cheney both making it to 2007 would now seem quite slight.

But I see that Castro's doctor, after months of stonewalling, has claimed the Cuban leader's health is improving. And, since nothing clears the arteries like the thrill of a lesbian birth, the US Vice President is also likely in the clear.

Over the next few days I'll be watching Donald Trump, who could be cracking under increased stress, Vladamir Putin, who may have handled poisonous material, Terrell Owens, who craves attention at all costs, and Beyonce Knowles, whose face is falling off.

* In a finale tribute to Ford's sticktoitness, the author of his Washington Post obituary died, himself, almost a year ago.

Bonus video: More fun with Gerald Ford obits from Dana Carvey.