There are few things in the world more sad—more awkward—than watching a 15-minute celebrity try and hold on to his fame. For a couple of years, before its cancellation, “The Surreal Life” gave such people a place to go and wallow together. But now that the show no longer exists, what’s one to do?
The answer? Start a website. Like this one. And this one. And this one. And this one. And this one. And this one. Oh, wait.
Here, my friends (hee-hee) is th latest: Joe the Plumber.
I don’t blame this guy for trying to milk every last drop of liquid goodness out of his celebrity. But, well, buddy, it’s over. O-v-e-r.
Fame is a funny thing. As a journalist, I’ve seen it up close, and it truly f$#@s with people’s heads. The attention is like a drug, and no matter how often you dismiss it or pooh-pooh the phenomenon, you require more … more … more … more. You need to be recognized in a restaurant; need to have someone ask for an autograph on their napkin; need to hear people whisper excitedly as you walk by. As I’ve often said to my wife, I wish many things for my two children: Love. Contentment. Happiness. But not fame.
No way.
