Stop asking me if I’ve heard about Brad and Angelina. The radio shows are full of their story like they are talking about what’s on sale at the grocery store. They’ve dehumanized them. Made their hurt commonplace and no count. I’m sure it’s just as the devil wants it.
I’m not a celebrity person. I can’t be. I spent many childhood days in a recording studio, or with my dad while he was making music or performing. I grew up around some decently popular names and more so around wanna be famous people. It brings on a weird jaded discernment that makes you see through their status and right to their humanness.
One time I went shopping with Mark McGrath. Remember him? Sugar Ray.
We were at a high priced mall in Vegas attempting to spend money won in a radio show contest. My sis wins every radio contest ever, so she invited me to ease the celebrity tension. She shopped and we all palled around.
Mark and I sang most of the songs from Grease. Ninja took a picture of a lady massaging her buns with a back massager at Sharper Image. Stuff like that. I still have the picture printed somewhere. I’m sure you can imagine it.
At one point he leaned over to us and said” I thought this was going to be totally lame. This has been so fun! You guys are normal. Not like the usual girls.” High praise. And I’m being serious.
So I leaned over and said “you know. You can actually sing.”
He replied with a very loud laugh and who am I to let a guy guffaw alone? Nope bit won’t ever happen. After our guts hurt a little from the laughing he quipped, “Well I hope so!”
I asked why he doesn’t sing different music. “Why do you sing that bubblegum pop if you don’t like it?”
“That’s what the record labels tell me I have to sing. I’ve pitched them other ideas. They say it won’t sell.” Turns out he was a little before his time and likes singer/songwriter. A man after my own musical heart.
This might be the saddest thing I’ve ever heard. He agreed. I’m not saying any of this to get you to feel sorry for celebrities. They choose their lime light. I just think maybe we can remember they are people before they are famous and while they are famous and after they are done being famous. They hurt. They cry. They experience loss and eat emotionally like the rest of us.
So maybe let’s not make light of their wounds. Maybe we have a chance to protect their hearts, even if we have never met.
We spent the rest of the afternoon people watching and trying to convince my sister to buy herself a pair of Jimmy Choos. I believe she bought a pair of earrings and a tank top. She has never been quick on her feet to make major decisions. And her heart is too big to drop $1,000 on a pair of boots.