I was watching music videos the other day. Had my feet up, enjoying the great feeling of paying off a nut-pinching loan. A video by Big Sean(?) came on and I saw that the name of his album is “Finally Famous.” Despite the album title being a bit of a stretch and far too soon, the word “famous” stuck.
I figured there’s a few ways to become famous. Be rich and act clueless (apparently America loves that), play professional sports and dominate, get a high government position, get a low-key government position and get involved in some scandal (usually adultery or taking bribes), become a movie star, create an electronic device that the world acts like they can’t live without, sleep with someone important and release it to the media, become a serial killer, be a head mafia figure and elude the FBI for years. Ok, after thoroughly thinking it through, there are more ways that I first thought.
Anyway, although I desire to write great scripts that agents and viewers will love, I’m all set with the negative attention that sometimes comes with fame. I’m quite content with the fact that something comes up if you Google my name. I’ll just take that and the money, please. I don’t want to be harassed by paparazzi. As obnoxious and stupid some celebrities look when they attack a paparazzi and break their camera, I can’t really blame them. Imagine if you were just trying to cross the street while picking a wedgie, and a bunch of strangers are snapping photos of you. Some photos in which will be used for negative purposes. I like my privacy and don’t appreciate anyone who would go out of their way to invade and/or expose my personal life. My family, my health, my relationship, is all personal and I should be the only person who decides who that information is shared with. It shouldn’t be left to any schmuck with a camera.