I am not a hypocrite.
For months now, in print, online and on the radio show, I've made no secret of my disdain about, dislike of, dismay regarding and disapproval at any and all things Kardashian.
A whole lotta dissin goin' on.
And dis I freely admit.
Today, the "breaking news" spaces are filled with the banner headlines that the eldest of the botox/implant crowd's answer to Moe, Larry and Curly has jumped the broom with that basketball guy hard core NBA types think is famous and everyone else has to Google if curious about who and what.
Here's a link to the basics of the story if you're curious and/or getting a scrapbook started.
http://www.cnn.com/2011/SHOWBIZ/celebrity.news.gossip/08/21/kim.kardashian.wedding/index.html?hpt=hp_t2
Best wishes to the happy couple. Mazel tov. Live long and prosper.
Yada yada.
Back to my earlier claim.
I am not a hypocrite.
My work, through, the years has been, in not just some small way, about dealing with, reporting on the various comings and goings of, and talking about, and even to, a variety of celebrities.
And to a C student who pretty much has yet to figure out what he wants to be when he grows up, being able to talk about the people I've talked about, and even to, is, admittedly, a source of pride.
(ED. ADVISORY: Brief, self serving burst of name dropping about to happen)
Jamie Lee Curtis.
Jamie Farr (Klinger from "M.A.S.H).
Mike Farrell (B.J. from "M.A.S.H.".
Mike Love of the Beach Boys.
Al Gore's daughter Kristin.
Olympic skating champion Sasha Cohen.
Tony Barrow, the press officer for The Beatles in the 1960's.
David Carradine (just prior to his little hang up shuffle off the mortal coil.
Ken Jennings, that whiz kid guy who won all those games on "Jeopardy".
Stu Cook from Creedence Clearwater Revival....
and my prized trophy chat...
Bill Cosby.
Just a few of the famous and pretty much famous I've had the chance to interview and those just in the last few years.
(ED. ADVISORY...Smarmy self aggrandizing showing off concluded. Thank you for your patience)
And add to the mix that I grew up in a household that saw a pretty much weekly incoming flow of various tabloids, gossip rags and, back in the day, even those good old fashioned movie magazine/fan worships.
Anybody remember "Modern Screen"?
How about "Photoplay"?
Ahh, you can't buy memories like that.
Well, actually, you probably can if you look on EBay or other collectable sites.
But I digress.
With all of that celebrity awareness and recognition in my resumes', both personal and professional, you'd think that all the comings, goings, laughing, crying, affections, rejections and/or injections experienced by the silicone/sushi crowd's non musical answer to the Dixie Chicks would be a source of constant interest to me.
And, more than once, of late, I have been accused, both subtly and blatantly, of the aforementioned hypocrisy owing to the fact that I never speak a sentence with the word Kardashian in it without using a derisive tone and/or including a discouraging word.
Though my skies are not cloudy all day.
I doth protest that accusation.
Because-eth...
Every celebrity in the celebrity culture, up until a brief few years ago, that I have talked about or to had "earned" their celebrity by achieving, at least, some small measure of "work", for lack of a better term.
Farr, Farrell, Curtis and Carradine were and/or are all accomplished actors with a long resume of stage and screen work to their credit.
Love and Cook were, and are, both accomplished musicians/singers/songwriters with a long resume of hit songs that are part of the American musical lexicon.
Barrow was responsible for handling the world altering media frenzy that was Beatlemania.
Sasha Cohen won Gold at the Olympics.
Ken Jennings was, and is, the uber nerd made good.
Even Al's little girl Kristin is a published author and respected TV and movie writer.
And the name Bill Cosby speaks for itself.
As for the Triple K?
TV stars after the fact.
Going in?
Three pampered princesses of privilege who have yet to write and/or act in a classic movie, have yet to write and or perform a seminal piece of American music, who may have mastered the double take but haven't come close to a triple axel, who have yet to prove they are capable of anything more erudite than "uh, we'll take Collagen Treatments for fifty, Alex", have yet to write, let alone publish, anything that doesn't begin with something like "Dear Diary, today the sushi just wasn't, like, fresh"...
and, once again, the name Bill Cosby speaks for itself.
My work requires that, in not just some small way, I deal with, report on the various comings and goings of, and talk about, and even to, a variety of celebrities.
And by the strictest definition, and current totally low to the ground set bar standard, of the word, the K3 of the Traveling Sisterhood requires my attention and observation.
But I do it only begrudgingly.
With a little of dis and a little of...well, more dis.
But it's not because I deny their celebrity.
It's because I resent it.
Celebrity, like respect, used to be earned.
These days, it's simply handed out like a flyer in a parking lot.
On that scale, the sisters, for me, rank somewhere between "Garage Sale Today" and "LOSE WEIGHT NOW...CALL THIS NUMBER..."
So, once and for all, let the record show.
I am not a hypocrite.
I'm a snob.
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