Eminem's Mom Mugged ... On Eight Mile Road!
Navigating Eminem's sordid past is like perambulating through one of Steven King's creepy-ass Maine towns. At midnight. In Winter. On foot. It's a looonng Eight Miles. Only, Eminem's Detroit is tougher: Have you ever tried to fight for your ass -- literally -- with a crazy eyed tweaker round Motor City way? No? Oh well, I guess then it was just me.
Anyhoo: Bob Hartlein of that significant cultural artifact the Star weaves a winding tale of la vida loca that surrounds Em:
"Five years into his estrangement with his mother Debbie Mathers, Eminem remains so resentful of her that his only response to her recent carjacking was to call her a 'bitch,' a family member tells Star.
"Late on the night of Thursday, Jan. 22, Mathers, 49, was visiting a gas station on Detroit's dangerous Eight Mile Road when she was carjacked at gunpoint. (A 16-year-old Detroit boy was apprehended and charged shortly after the incident.) Her purse -- which was in the car and has yet to be recovered -- contained 'a manuscript of a book she was writing about Marshall and baby pictures of him,' says the source."
One would expect some comfort from your son if this were to happen to you, right? Not in the Mather household. Love is for pussies:
"This ordeal was yet another stroke of bad luck for Debbie, following her diagnosis with breast cancer a few years ago, says the source. And although she avoided injury during the crime, the source says that Debbie was subjected to a fusillade of angry words from her son.
"'Look b****, of all the places for this to go down, Eight Mile Road, where my movie [2002's 8 Mile] was filmed!' Eminem allegedly yelled over the phone after learning of his mother's latest misfortune, the source says. 'Couldn't you pick another place for it to happen?'"
Damn ... it's a hard knock life. Where's the love, Marshall? (shakes his head dejected at the lack of compassion in this godless Post September 11 world, whispers) Where's the love? Just because she didn't throw down for your baby pictures, cornbread, that doesn't make your moms a punk. She has cancer! But wait, there's more:
"For years, war has been raging between the 31- year-old hip-hop mogul and his mother. In 1999, Debbie filed an $11-million slander lawsuit over some disturbing and potentially defamatory lyrics (he fantasized about killing her and called her a pillpopper) on his debut album, The Slim Shady LP.
"In response, Eminem cut Debbie off both financially and emotionally, the source says.
"To make matters worse, Debbie recently lost her Michigan home to foreclosure, and has since been living with a friend in a bad area of Detroit, according to the family member. Now, this vicious reaction from her son is almost too much for Debbie to bear, says the family member."
The Corsair munches on salt-free popcorn, whistles to no one in particular about all of this trailer park shit, and, appalled, continues reading:
"Eminem may not have much time left to mend fences. According to Debbie's brother Todd Nelson, she isn't getting treated for breast cancer, which she has been secretly fighting for two or three years. 'It only became known to family members in the last six months,' Nelson tells Star. Another family member thinks the disease is causing Debbie to waste away to what seems like a skeletal figure. 'Debbie isn't receiving any treatment for her cancer, partly because she can't afford it, and partly because she's in denial,' says the source. 'At this point, she doesn't care about her health: She continues to smoke, and most of the time, she's too weak from grieving over the eldest son she's lost to get out of bed. But maybe if Marshall showed her some love and compassion, she'd have a reason to live.'
"The source adds that friends and family are stunned at Eminem's alleged insensitivity and indifference toward his mom: 'None of this seems to be a wake-up call to Marshall to extend an olive branch. He just doesn't seem to have it in his heart to forgive her for whatever past mistakes she made, and help her out -- especially now, when she needs him the most.'"
It's like a car accident that you can't help but watch even though you know it's wrong. Surely this has something to do with the decline of American democracy ("and don't call me Shirley"), but I am too tired to give it the old Jerry Springer's Final Thought. Thank God it's Friday (*sips Cutty Sark*). For everyone out there who thinks your family is dysfunctional ...