My Tabloid Binge
by Harley
Last week I was reading my friend Gavin's online column in New York Magazine, entitled "Why Stars Act Crazy (and Why People Like Me Share the Blame)" –a fascinating essay, illustrated with photos of Lindsay Lohan, Charlie Sheen and . . . Gerard Depardieu.
Lindsay and Charlie need no explanation. But Gerard? Pardon my ignorance. When I Googled Gerard to discover why he was among the crazies, I was transported through a wormhole into the Land of the Paparazzi, thick with photos, links, slide shows, YouTube segments, blogs, vlogs, comments, more comments, endless comments. . .
. . . and when I emerged from the wormhole, I'd lost 2.7 hours of my life.
Maybe if I subscribed to PEOPLE I wouldn't act like a starving, hormonal woman 
in a Godiva factory when I encounter a tabloid. Experts say that children who aren't allowed sugar at home go crazy when let out of the house, stealing M&Ms from their friends' lunch boxes. I am their literary equivalent. My subscriptions are Mystery Scene and Horses. (Okay, sometimes I buy Vanity Fair.)
I don't watch reality shows either, which might explain how I once found myself in a NYC hotel room watching five consecutive hours of America's Next Top Model.
So anyway, Gerard Depardieu. He peed in an airplane. There [image error] are conflicting reports of why, but I'm not that interested. It's only urine. However, look what else I discovered:
1. Ashton cheated on Demi. Although I can't name a single Ashton Kutcher opus, and haven't watched Demi since A Few Good Men, I now wonder, like 88% of the human race, Can This Marriage be Saved?
2. Rihanna doesn't hate Chris Brown.
3. Robert Downey, Jr. begs Hollywood to forgive Mel Gibson. 
5. Lindsay is doing community service at the Red Cross, because at the women's centre where she was assigned, people were "mean" to her. Next up: 120 hours of janitorial duty at the LA County Morgue.
6. Hilary Swank inadvertently went to the birthday party of Chechen president 
Ramzan Kadyrov, who's accused of mass murder. Says Hilary, "I deeply regret attending, which has thrown into question my deeply-held commitment to the protection of human rights." (Ah, Hilary, if I had a dollar for every party I regretted attending . . .)
7. Jean Claude Van Damme, at the same party, told Kadyrov, "I love you with all my heart."
Normally, Jean Claude wouldn't pass celebrity muster, but publicly expressing love to a warlord is always compelling. My personal A-list, like yours, is idiosyncratic. There are artists whose work I adore whose life stats don't interest me. And stars of questionable talent whose lives fascinate me, the meaningless details, the eating disorders, the plastic surgery, the names of their pets.
And then there are these:
The 8, plus Jon and Kate. I don't care. Kardashians, Teenage Moms, or real desperate housewives of anywhere? Don't care. For me, reality show fame is a negative. Ditto talk show hosts and newscasters. Kathy Lee Gifford, women of The View, right-wing radio commentators, these would have to be serial killers to get my attention (except for Dr. Laura, who bugs me.) Speaking of serial killers, or anyone who murders or abducts a parent, spouse, child, lover's wife or daughter's cheerleading rival—even if everyone involved is photogenic—I'm not reading about them in the supermarket checkout line.
I'm old school. I like actors, politicians, religious leaders, rock stars, supermodels. I like Oscar winners and nominees assaulting photographers, trashing hotel rooms, bashing vehicles with golf clubs, shoplifting. I like religious fundamentalists having gay sex and tearfully apologizing to their flock.
I used to love the Royals, but I miss the glory days of Koo Stark, toe-sucking, and tampon metaphors. Will & Kate are pretty tame.
I don't care about sports figures. I don't know why. It's not like Mike Tyson and Tiger Woods aren't giving it their all.
Ah, but Charlie Sheen? The gold standard. (BTW, I once auditioned with him. He was very kind.) Mel Gibson? An embarrassment of riches. Christian Bale's rant at a crew member while filming Terminator Salvation was spellbinding. Arnold, Madonna, Britney, Whitney, Anna Nicole Smith. Kennedys! (except for Maria Shriver, who I want left alone.) Palins! Scientologists!
[image error]Okay, who'd I miss? Because I must stop now. I've spent hours, days researching this blog and now I need detox: a shower, a nature walk, an afternoon spent studying the Dead Sea Scrolls. Or viewing heartwarming stuff like this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=armP8TfS9Is
(But please, please, if you hear anything about Demi and Ashton, call me on my cell.)
Harley
