Kim Kardashian and Me

Kim Kardashian is fake like me. With no discernible talent she’s managed to become the premier fashion/social/sex icon of the new decade. Kim knows the secret to success in America: Be Noticeable. Her equation: Drama + Video Camera = Millions of Dollars.

I’m different than Kim but I suffer from the same disease.  I want to be noticed. I don’t make millions of dollars, I don’t have a big butt, and I’ve never divorced an NBA player; but I have pulled girls pony tails in elementary school, I have lied about the size of my… shoes, and I have stood in front of thousands of people, basking in their applause.

And with a culture that rewards silly drama there’s a constant pull toward hollow fame. Attention for attention’s sake.

But I won’t do it. And that’s why I’ve created this celebrity blog that generates meaningless hits (insert palpable irony here.)

What about you? Have you ever chased hollow attention like Kim and I have? In your personal life? With your blog?

Peyton Manning and You

Peyton Manning might be done in the NFL, or he might not. We just don’t know. But we do know the man handles the media like a champ. In yesterday’s ESPN interview a reporter relentlessly badgered him about the complicated quarterback situation unfolding in Indianapolis.

It happens to public figures ALL the time! They’re forced to field aggressive questions about emotionally charged situations on a daily basis. How do they do it?

When someone ignores the social conventions of question asking it’s difficult not to act defensively. And when you have emotions about the topic it’s even harder to disguise them with PC answers.

Like, what if a bully punched your kid in the face and a journalist instantly pressed for your opinion on the jerk and his lowlife family? Or how about in real life situations with your tactless neighbor, pushy boss, or a telemarketer?

Do you always pull a Peyton, or do you sometimes crack? And if you’re unflappable, what’s your secret?

Tim Tebow and You

Tim Tebow stole the show this year in football and it wasn’t just because of his miracle victories. It was because of expectations.

In a strange twist of pop culture the Comeback-Kid is carrying the weight of Evangelical America on his shoulders. If news suddenly broke that Tim was secretly sleeping with say, Michelle Obama, our country would probably implode.

See, many Tebow fans are primarily invested in Tim’s expected behavior.

And expectations are like a snowball. If you start with a firm conviction and roll it down a hill, it will eventually develop a life of it’s own, picking up mass and pressure, tumbling out of control. It’s an incidental consequence of attempting to become the best version of yourself.

That’s what’s happening to Tebow. Like it or not he represents piety in America today. And maybe he likes it? But he’s still just a well spoken, faith oriented kid who’s horrible at throwing spirals.

Have you ever felt the mounting pressure of runaway expectations? What did you do?

Michael Jackson and You

Michael Jackson was arguably the greatest musical talent of our lifetime. Pure creativity, pure genius. But he was motivated in part with belittling verbal assaults and aggressive physical violence from his father. I suspect it influenced him forever.

There’s something about personal tragedy that changes us. It breaks us down and builds us into something entirely different. It’s the feeling of innocence lost, the knowing that things can never go back to the way they were.

It’s a new set of motivations based on a new set of fears, values, defense mechanisms, and insights. But if the conditions are right and our courage is aroused, unexpected brilliance can emerge from the ashes of our former selves.

What have you endured that has shaped who you are today? Would you endure childhood abuse if you were promised penultimate greatness as an adult?

Katy Perry and Me

Katy Perry makes me emotional. Not because she sings about The One That Got Away, and not because she and her hubby just split up.

We both grew up as preacher’s kids and Katy is still rebelling in every way I wished I did. And I’m pretty sure I know the Bible verses that race through her head while she sleeps off a hangover.

I identify with the roaring angst she drowns out at parties. I remember the pressure to repress everything, and the urge to do just the opposite.  In high school I wanted to press Julie up against my locker but I shuffled off toward the buss with a knot in my stomach instead.

We love and hate very different people for a billion different reasons: a haircut, an embarrassing anecdote, a lifestyle choice.

So who is it for you? What star do you have an extra connection with, and what makes you care more deeply?

Mitt Romney and You

Mitt Romney is vanilla. He’s got money, good looks, and decent stage presence, but a sneaking feeling warns me he’s got no chance in the General Election.

Why? It’s something intangible. The thing that makes Simon Cowell interesting despite his bluntness, and Stephen Tyler likeable despite his craziness. Those two guys are who they say they are, and it’s original.

All of us are born unique, but we suffer in varying degrees from Mitt Romney Syndrome (MRS). If you’ve exclaimed “I love that movie,” when you hated it, if you bleached your hair in 1998, and if you’re wearing Aviator sunglasses this very second, you definitely suffer from MRS.

But being vanilla only gets you so far. You won’t wow anybody. You won’t be original. And trust me… you’re supposed to be.

When have you been guilty of being somebody else?

Angelina Jolie And You

Mom wanted me to be a preacher, dad wanted me to be an engineer, I didn’t know what I wanted.

Part of growing up is differentiating yourself from your parent’s expectations. Some parents are great at facilitating the process, while others, feeling threatened, employ shame to maintain control.

I’ll never forget the day my mom shook her meaty finger in my face, screaming, “You’ve made me a failure as a mother!”

Granted, I had just confessed to viewing porn the evening before, but I think she saw her plans for my religious piety crumbling before her eyes.

What were your parent’s dreams for you, and how did you go about becoming your own person?

Tiger Woods And You

This is what a man looks like when he is hiding. But here’s the secret: every man is hiding.

You know the cold, sweaty feeling you get when you hear footsteps on the stairs? That’s when you know you’ve got a secret. And the guilt! Like the splinter that’s still embedded in the soft skin between my thumb and forefinger, it’s a dull, steady throb.

The worst part about secrets? We keep them from ourselves. Like a fat man who avoids looking in the mirror. We don’t want to acknowledge things as they are: NO I’m not fat. No that’s NOT guilt. No, I don’t have any secrets!

The real question is, what are you hiding?

Tom, Gisele, and Me

My wife makes more money than I do. It makes me feel inadequate. Tom Brady makes less than his wife too.  I wonder if he feels inadequate like me. He probably should, right?

The problem with money is that, among other things, people use it as a gauge to help measure how important others are. Yes, it’s a horribly inaccurate metric; but no, there’s no way people will stop measuring with money.

This is an emotionally challenging situation for some men whose wives have leapfrogged them in earning capacity. On paper it’s great, but men are funny creatures.

We are hardwired to hunt and gather and provide. And we can’t help but measure our importance by the size of our penis paycheck.

Is your paycheck secretly attached to your sense of importance?

Shake Weight and Me

I started masturbating when I was 15. A little late, you might think, but I made up for lost time. I woke up every morning feeling dirty as hell.

Some people say the only reason I felt guilty was because I was raised in a strict Christian home. Others say I’d feel bad regardless because the act is sinful.

Of course there’s no official answer, but I wonder if more people feel bad about whacking off than those who feel good about it.

But my problem wasn’t masturbating, it was quitting. I tugged on my wiener daily from age 15 to age 27 with occasional breaks for rawness and swelling. Quitting crack couldn’t have been so difficult.

So maybe my guilt was caused by powerlessness. Either way, I’m proud to announce that I haven’t spanked the monkey in 26 months. Weird.

Anyway, do you feel guilty when you masturbate?