When I was a really little girl, I used to love reading about movie stars. To me, they were like royalty. They lived in beautiful houses -- with swimming pools -- they wore gorgeous clothes and generally had perfect lives. Or so I thought. Any hint of impropriety was just that -- a hint. It was all part of the fantasy. Movie stars didn't live "normal" lives like the rest of us. They were never the noisy neighbors who got drunk and had fights, while the rest of the neighbors closed their curtains and pretended they couldn't hear them.
Or so we thought.
I'm not sure I like the new transparency that has been forced onto celebrities by the paparazzi and by sleazy media sites such as TMZ and Radar Online. But the genie is out of the bottle, and we are given a view into these folks private lives. Having said that, wouldn't you think they would want to present a better face to the world? Don't these people care that everyone can see their dirty laundry? Unfortunately, there is no such thing as privacy anymore. When Alex Baldwin or Mel Gibson leave repulsive and sickening messages on folks' voice mail, don't they realize it will go viral in a matter of minutes? When Lindsay Lohan or Paris Hilton, or any other bimbo du jour gets drunk or stoned, throws up and passes out -- on camera -- don't they realize that those pictures will be on the internet -- forever? No amount of cosmetics or plastic surgery can enhance a mug shot.
What are these people thinking?
I don't know about anyone else, but I prefer not to see people -- anyone -- descending into dissoluteness. It should be kept private, whether it's the neighbors or the previous year's Oscar winners. If I hear one more news story about Lindsay Lohan's addictions, bad behaviour and jail sentence, or Mel Gibson's dirty laundry and foul mouth, I think I will throw a shoe through my television set. And then I'll probably get arrested for violence.
Watch for my mug shot.