Monday, September 07, 2009
Feeding the Beast
In my life I have frequently been in close proximity with well known figures. Some friends, some coworkers, some employers. I have seen some of these people portrayed in the tabloid press, some favorable, some not so much.
I don't read the tabloids, and I am unable to understand why anyone does. I don't care about the private lives of public people. Why should I care about Lindsay and Britney and Paris? To do so would be taking too much time and brain power away from things that actually matter, like the dessert topping choices of Eliot Spitzer's favorite hooker...
The first time I met a celebrity I was with my parents at Chicago's Museum of Science and Industry. I was looking at the Foucault Pendulum and Dr. Posen was there, explaining the significance of the pendulum and how it proved the earth rotated. Dr. Posen had a science show on WTTW, the educational channel in Chicago, and he was my favorite TV personality at the time. I thought he was the smartest man on earth, and to be in his presence was moving. My other favorite TV personality at that time was P.J. Hoff, the channel two weather guy who drew cartoons on the weather map during his segment while explaining the next incoming cold front. As you can see, even at the age of six or seven my geekdom was already fully developed.
I can remember wondering, when Jennifer Aniston's topless pictures were released why the photographer wasn't arrested as a peeping tom. To get the photographs he had to climb a tree and lay in wait for her to sunbathe in her back yard, surrounded by very high hedges to give her privacy. I have never cared for celebrity photographers, especially the so-called stalkarazzi. I was always amazed by how they could get pictures of celebrities with angry looks on their faces, until I found out that there is a list of celebrities that they want to show in a negative light, and they photograph those on the list in teams- one who screams horrible things at them, and another who takes the picture of the response.
A few years back, my wife worked on the soundtrack for "I Am Sam" and we were invited to the film's premier. It was a red carpet event that had dozens of celebrity photographers. While we were on the red carpet, several of them started yelling "Rob! Rob! Over here!" I smiled and waved, not knowing why they were calling me. I have never thought of myself as a celebrity. For good reason. I'm not one. We were both mystified, until I turned around and saw that Rob Thomas was walking in behind me.
I bring this up, because over the past few days I have been thinking about the cult of celebrity. It's very big business. Magazines and television shows dedicated to celebrity gossip are everywhere.
My current interest was spurred by the story of two chiefs of police in Ohio under indictment for breaking and entering a woman's home, and stealing personal items. This woman had agreed to be a surrogate mother for Matthew Broderick and Sarah Jessica Parker. The police chiefs then tried to sell the items to a photographer employed by a tabloid. The items included the surrogacy agreement, pictures of pregnancy ultrasounds and other things related to the surrogacy story. The police chiefs were angered by the price offered for the stolen items. The photographers stated that they just wanted to know the whereabouts of the woman so that they could take her picture.
The two police chiefs, former partners in a small town police department, invented the excuse that they were in her home because they found the door open and decided to investigate. If that were true, then why did they take items from the woman's home, and why were they trying to sell the items?
The trial is about to begin. It will soon come out what forces were at work to motivate two chiefs of police to allegedly commit a robbery. Was it just as simple as desire for money? Was it because some feeling about celebrity and fame? We may never know. But one thing is sure: The crime has made the two police chiefs the fodder of celebrity press.
I don't read the tabloids, and I am unable to understand why anyone does. I don't care about the private lives of public people. Why should I care about Lindsay and Britney and Paris? To do so would be taking too much time and brain power away from things that actually matter, like the dessert topping choices of Eliot Spitzer's favorite hooker...
The first time I met a celebrity I was with my parents at Chicago's Museum of Science and Industry. I was looking at the Foucault Pendulum and Dr. Posen was there, explaining the significance of the pendulum and how it proved the earth rotated. Dr. Posen had a science show on WTTW, the educational channel in Chicago, and he was my favorite TV personality at the time. I thought he was the smartest man on earth, and to be in his presence was moving. My other favorite TV personality at that time was P.J. Hoff, the channel two weather guy who drew cartoons on the weather map during his segment while explaining the next incoming cold front. As you can see, even at the age of six or seven my geekdom was already fully developed.
I can remember wondering, when Jennifer Aniston's topless pictures were released why the photographer wasn't arrested as a peeping tom. To get the photographs he had to climb a tree and lay in wait for her to sunbathe in her back yard, surrounded by very high hedges to give her privacy. I have never cared for celebrity photographers, especially the so-called stalkarazzi. I was always amazed by how they could get pictures of celebrities with angry looks on their faces, until I found out that there is a list of celebrities that they want to show in a negative light, and they photograph those on the list in teams- one who screams horrible things at them, and another who takes the picture of the response.
A few years back, my wife worked on the soundtrack for "I Am Sam" and we were invited to the film's premier. It was a red carpet event that had dozens of celebrity photographers. While we were on the red carpet, several of them started yelling "Rob! Rob! Over here!" I smiled and waved, not knowing why they were calling me. I have never thought of myself as a celebrity. For good reason. I'm not one. We were both mystified, until I turned around and saw that Rob Thomas was walking in behind me.
I bring this up, because over the past few days I have been thinking about the cult of celebrity. It's very big business. Magazines and television shows dedicated to celebrity gossip are everywhere.
My current interest was spurred by the story of two chiefs of police in Ohio under indictment for breaking and entering a woman's home, and stealing personal items. This woman had agreed to be a surrogate mother for Matthew Broderick and Sarah Jessica Parker. The police chiefs then tried to sell the items to a photographer employed by a tabloid. The items included the surrogacy agreement, pictures of pregnancy ultrasounds and other things related to the surrogacy story. The police chiefs were angered by the price offered for the stolen items. The photographers stated that they just wanted to know the whereabouts of the woman so that they could take her picture.
The two police chiefs, former partners in a small town police department, invented the excuse that they were in her home because they found the door open and decided to investigate. If that were true, then why did they take items from the woman's home, and why were they trying to sell the items?
The trial is about to begin. It will soon come out what forces were at work to motivate two chiefs of police to allegedly commit a robbery. Was it just as simple as desire for money? Was it because some feeling about celebrity and fame? We may never know. But one thing is sure: The crime has made the two police chiefs the fodder of celebrity press.
