Star Lovers, Inc.

Famous people have it good. I guess everybody thinks that when they look at brushed-up photos of actors, actresses and rock stars. They have tons of money, they have people work for them instead working for other people. They get to throw cellphones at their maids, or adopt a baby even though it's illegal in a country of the baby's birth. They buy houses or even islands, go on tropical vacations and drink champaigne for breakfast. They have great life.
Well, maybe. Or maybe not. But... who cares? Is it the same impulse that makes us look in other people's windows to have a peek in their life? Is it because EVERYBODY has it better than we do and grass is always greener on the other side?

I'm asking myself: what is it that makes it a greater sin when celebrity uses the "N" word compared to a regular Joe? Why is a sexist commentary more controversial coming from a famous person's mouth? Scumbag is a scumbag, no matter how you look at it. No matter if he's got a famous hotelier's name or is a Japanese president. Why is it a front page news that some reckless 20-something showed her non-undereweared crotch? I repeat: who cares?
If it wasn't for our sick interest in others, especially famous people's lives, half of the newspapers would go out of business. And I for one would not mind that. Never in my life was I so not interested in something.
Now, when I was a teenager, that was a different story. I had room full of pop-star posters and carried a photo of Limahl, Kajagoogoo singer with me at all times. And then the news broke: Limahl is gay. I was devastated. My dreams of having future with the pretty boy with white, spiked hair and luscious lips broke down like a house of cards. I tore the picture apart and cried for a week. And then I decided to never ever plan my future with the photo again. I did have crushes on celebrities (not so well known in America, more of a local mini-celebrities) but it was always for something: their voice, their acting skills or ability to write good poetry. But never for looks. What's more, most of my "idols" were downright ugly by tabloids' standards. I can't help but wonder now: is it Angelina's a) indisputable acting talent or b) her blown-up lips that are attractive to 6 page readers? Call me cynical, but I think I know the answer and it's "b".
So I ask myself again and again: is it normal that we as society are more interested in Brangelina and TomCat than our own private lives? Or maybe we just don't have a life? The question is:
Is it possible that we would get a life if there were less celebrities or at least less tabloids printed every day?
How about if we just got a life.