Random Thoughts on Fame

Do you remember a few years ago when it came out, rather belatedly if you don't mind my saying, that it was actually gin in Sir John A. MacDonald's glass during parialmentary sessions, not water as people were supposed to believe? I do. And I remember thinking at the time that it really doesn't matter what's in my glass, because 50 years from now, nobody's going to know the difference. Hell, 3 years from now it's not exactly going to hit the headlines. Or next week, either.

This is liberating. It's liberating because while Big Brother might be watching, he's not paying much attention to me. Why would he? I'm nobody. I'm just here, doing my thing... la de da. :) I feel kinda bad for people who work so very hard for fame, only to have to wear disguises so they aren't recognized when they go out. Sure, people recognize me in town, but they only smile. Even at the community market where people see me and ask where they can get my jam, such a minor kind of fame doesn't exactly place me in danger of being swarmed by paparazzi. Liberating. Why I can even write pretty much anything I want on here... mwahahaha. Who's to know? ;o) This is genuine freedom.

Sometimes it's kinda funny where you see people who used to be famous. I say "used to" because after a long absence from the public eye there's liable to be a whole generation of people who don't know or care who you are. Take Mr. Zulu, for example. There he is doing high definition colour technology tv ads on ... yeah... tv. My daughter doesn't like this guy because of his evil laugh at the fact that our tv (and presumably many others) has only 3-colour technology. (Seems ok to me.) "He's just trying to make you want something you don't need," I tell her, adding, "that's Mr. Zulu." "Who's that?" she replies. Right. So I guess Mr. Zulu can go to the Seven/Eleven after hours without worrying about being recognized by the zitty youngster behind the counter. How liberating. Then there's Bonnie Hunt, who is famous, but for some reason can't get the paparazzi to follow her anywhere. Heh. Good for you, Bonnie! Bonnie Hunt, Mr. Zulu and me. Beam us up, Scotty.

Picture: Me, hiding behind a plant so the paparazzi don't see me. Bonnie Hunt and Mr. Zulu are back here with me. We're drinking gin.