I was away on a little vacation last week, and as it turned out, I learned more than the fact that Virginia is a beautiful state. I was at the airport newsstand fiddling away some time before boarding and stocking up on the necessities required to get me through my flight. Let’s see... bar-b-qued potato chips, Junior Mints and of course, something good to read. I scanned the magazine racks looking for just the right reading material to make my journey less dreary.
I thought about buying a popular health and fitness magazine that featured an article on the 14 Super Foods. When I saw the first food on the list was legumes and the last was plain yoghurt, I didn’t hold out much hope that potato chips and peppermint candy would be included. Maybe another time.
Cosmopolitan is always interesting and often quite steamy in content. THAT would keep me amused over Salt Lake City! Only problem is, the last time I read Cosmo on the plane, the guy next to me in business class must have assumed that I was absorbing every one of those “how to” tips and adding them to my personal repertoire. His knee kept hitting mine and the “ooh baby” winks kept coming throughout the flight. He asked me if I would like to go have a drink with him when we landed. If I had been reading Field and Stream, would he have asked me to go bass fishing? I doubt it.
I only had a few minutes and I just needed something light and brainless, so I decided on a couple of tabloids and headed to my gate.Once on board, I settled in and built my invisible wall around me. I took out my snacks and began thumbing through my “tell all” magazines. They brought me a Diet Coke which, by the way, I believe negates the calories in potato chips and candy. I thought you might like to know that. Anyway, I was getting really comfortable and loving every minute of my precious down time all by my little self, when suddenly, there was a commotion up front. I stopped to pay attention. I always want to make sure that we are not going to die before I get really comfortable. I summoned the flight attendant and asked what was going on. She quietly told me that a very famous and handsome actor, she was quick to add, was in the first class cabin just a few rows ahead of me. With great relief that we weren’t on fire or being hijacked, I went back to my magazines and snacks.
I couldn’t concentrate because of the constant buzz and not-so-subtle motioning that had now spread through the entire aircraft. Mr. Hollywood was evidently sitting at the very front of the plane. It amazed me that grown up people traveling in first and business class were conjuring up excuses to go to the lavatories or visit the galley extra often just to have a look. I would not be part of this, I thought! They make you use the bathrooms in your own area, so at some point I was wiggling enough that I had to give in. I was so proud that I came and went and never looked to see who it was. When I sat back down, my neighbor who hadn’t as much as acknowledged me yet, leaned in and said “Did you see Cool Callahan?” (not his real name, duh!), ”I thought he was taller!” he continued. I just smiled like I didn’t speak English and went back to my treats and tabloids once AGAIN. As I turned the pages, there were endless articles with “grab you” headlines about celebrities and their lives. And then it hit me. How hard it must be to be famous! As I turned the pages, I scanned article after article about who’s sleeping with who, who’s bankrupt, gay, too fat, too thin, drugged out, possibly pregnant or secretly married. The telephoto-ed snapshots of famous folks being caught during their private moments or in a state less than glamorous were there for the world to see. This seemed so unfair. I won’t even let my kids take a candid photo of me without grabbing the camera and editing out the ones where I have too many chins.
I don’t know what it was, but after awhile I started getting this icky feeling. I started to think about what it would be like to live life under a microscope. I could certainly get into the privileged part of celebrity-ness, but having to deal with the gossip and the gawking and the paparazzi? I can’t even stand it when my Aunt Maggie follows me around with her digital camera all of Christmas day so she can share the photos with the relatives back home. I do it because I love her, but it drives me nuts.
When we landed and lined up to wait for them to open the airplane door to exit, all eyes were on Mr. MovieStarPants. I guess famous people get themselves ready to disembark an aircraft and collect their overhead luggage differently than us ”normal” people, because every eye was on him. I lowered my head in protest and stared at my newly pedicured and painted toes as I waited. All I could think about was that when I travel, I like to be invisible. I don’t like to chat and I revel in the peace and quiet. I actually border on being anti-social and it’s somewhat of a luxury.
As we started to move down the aisle, the lady standing behind me whispered “I am going to grab his pillow when I go by! Maybe I will put it on eBay”, she giggled. If you can have an epiphany in an airplane aisle, I did. I “epiphed” BIG time. As I walked through the terminal, I made a ceremonious stop at the trash bin and deposited my two tabloids. I will never buy them or read them again. PERIOD! I will not contribute another cent of my money or a minute of my time to reading that destructive sensationalistic crap. I am hoping that I can talk you, my faithful readers, into doing the same. Are you IN?
What I once thought was mindless fun is really shameful intrusion. And to be honest, not much of that stuff is even true.
So what do movie stars owe us? Good movies and interviews they choose to give are all, in my opinion. If I am ever tempted to read those trash papers again, I will think of that actor (who happens to be one of my favorites, by the way... and he IS intoxicatingly handsome) and remember how much of his life he had to give up. I don’t think all the money and “stuff” in the world can make up for losing your privacy and probably some of your soul.
It’s funny, but I recently saw this star being interviewed on TV and he was saying that he had a profound fear of flying. I think I know WHY, and it doesn’t have much to do with being 30,000 feet off the ground.
I am so grateful that I was born a cartoon. Nobody really ever bothers us.
