What do the following people have in common?
Lindsay Lohan, Britney Spears, Whitney Houston,
Charlie Sheen, Rihanna, Michael Jackson, Elvis Presley, and now Justin Bieber?
They are all American entertainers who burst on the
scene with All-American charm and good-looks and a certain naïve innocence,
only to be transformed into raving lunatics. Three on the list are dead by
their own hands, the other five, not yet.
This morning in my round up of the morning news I am
treated to a picture of Justin Bieber wearing a gas mask, and a headline
informing me that the 19 year old had collapsed onstage and been taken to the
hospital. The sad truth is that nobody in America is surprised. This is what
happens here, this is what we do to famous people.
It probably doesn’t help keeping one’s own
self-image in perspective when at age 19 you already have your own line of
designer toothbrushes. Must be difficult to maintain humility when before you’re
even old enough to take a drink, you have enough money to buy the brewery. So,
seeing Bieber’s boyish face covered with a gas mask surrounded by body guards
and paparazzi seems the most normal thing in the world at 7 in the morning. TMZ
will have all the details tonight, but the story will be so old hat, it will
probably end up third in the queue behind Rihanna’s latest porn video or
Lindsay Lohan’s latest court appearance.
Fame in America has become a ticket to insanity, a
cycle as predictable as the tides. First we discover the latest fresh face on
America’s Got Talent or American Idol. We fall in love with the voice, the
style, the possibility of greatness. Then our new hero has hit after hit, sells
a billion records, and before they know what has hit them, there’s an “Inc.” at
the end of their name. Then come the endorsements, the round the clock exposure,
the superhuman schedule, magazine covers, televised interviews. Before long
rumors swirl about wild parties, drunkenness and drug use. Then pictures
surface of violent clashes with cameramen. A sex tape emerges as sure as the
sun rising in the east. They develop a reputation for being “difficult” to work
with. Showing up 2 hours late for everything becomes commonplace. Then we’re
treated to a series of hook-ups with other equally young, rich, and ungrounded celebrity
types. Eventually there will be run-ins with the law, DUI’s, and the unavoidable
paternity suit/ unplanned pregnancy. The cycle most likely ends with our hero
hold up in a Xanadu of their own making wasting away into madness. The nation
mourns at the inevitable news of their tragic and untimely end.
Momma’s, don’t let your babies grow up to be famous.
No comments:
Post a Comment