Dead celebrities, and how it emotionally affects people (even me) is a thing which has always baffled me. It’s probably the result of this that (and the fact that I don’t watch television or many contemporary movies) I usually don’t feel anything anymore about celebs dying.
Joe DiMaggio ran into Paul Simon at a party once and buttonholed him on just what the reference to him in Simon’s “Here’s to You, Mrs. Robinson” meant. Simon, surprised, said he meant no disrespect, and explained about being an American icon from an idealized era and its relation to the theme. He said Joe seemed satisfied with that. We have given a class of citizens the status of medieval saints, to whom we pay devotion, partly out of morbid curiosity, but partly out of a muffled sort of awe that anybody could attain and hold such an exalted state in the eyes of millions. The result is a new and democratized form of worship.
Me, I’m just waiting for the day someone credits Justin Bieber with curing his gallstones.
A celebrity is someone who is well known for his well-knownness.
— Daniel Boorstin
A friend of mine relates a story of a party she went to where there were a lot of celebrities mingling with “the peasants” like her (as she called herself), including Sir Mixalot, who was there with a woman on each arm and more admirers hanging around, including one he was trying to get rid of because he kept going on and on about how Sir Mix had dj’ed one of his high school dances before he hit the big time, which I think is wonderful. Mix didn’t want to be reminded of his humble beginnings, but the guy thought that dance was the pinnacle of his high school years. More celebrities need to have a humbling experience like that.
If I ever am able to get Robert Downey, Jr.’s autograph, it will be on a VHS copy of, “Weird Science,” and I’ll ask him what he’s appeared in lately – and I LIKE Robert Downey, Jr. Same with Tom Hanks and a copy of, “Bachelor Party.”