Lately I've been thinking about R.Kelly a lot.  Well, not a lot, saying that I've thought about him once or twice in passing would probably be more accurate.  These thoughts of R.Kelly were not unprovoked.  I was unpacking a box of DVDs and I found my copy of Trapped in the Closet (I have no problem admitting that I own that DVD), and it reminded me of R.Kelly's glory days last summer.  The fact that I spent the summer in Chicago, where he is a hometown hero (I'm really using the word hero loosely), probably had an impact on the amount of attention he got, but last summer I couldn't open a newspaper or turn on the radio without hearing something about the R. People couldn't stop talking about the absurdity (genius?) that was "Trapped in the Closet", and the genius (absurdity?) of the tracks on his album, TP3 Reloaded (My personal favorite was "Sex Weed".  He just sort of combined two things that he liked and tried to pass it off as a functioning sexual metaphor).  This summer, however, I haven't heard a word about the R.  Not about any new chapters of "Trapped in the Closet" (which he promised) and not even about his legal woes. It pains me to see the R drop off into obscurity.  Summer does not feel like summer without one of his awkwardly overtly sexual booty jams playing on the radio.  I have trouble getting to sleep at night, not knowing what is going on with Rufus, Chuck, Cathy, and Rosie the Nosy Neighbor.  Somebody needs to get in touch with his publicist, and tell him or her to get Kels back on the radar. Get him involved in another underage sex scandal or at least get him to produce another hit that utilizes the tired woman:car/sex:driving metaphor.  Toot toot, beep beep.  I miss you R. Kelly.

*disclaimer: I actually kinda like R.Kelly.  I try to pass it off as an ironic fascination, but the dude's actually a decent musician.  His lyrics...that's another story, but the guy knows how to write a catchy song.  Don't try to act like you don't have "I Believe I Can Fly" on your iPod too.