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Being a celebrity not all it’s cracked up to be

I was standing in line at Kroger the other day waiting to be checked out. I stood there going over my grocery list in my head trying to decide if I had forgotten anything. I was careful to make out a list of everything I needed. However, it does me little good at home on the kitchen counter. It seems I need a list to remind me to bring my list.

As I stood in line, I began to scan the front covers of all the magazines that littered the checkout area with all sorts of gossip about every celebrity possible. I saw where some celebrity was spotted on the beach with a woman that was not their significant other and another celebrity had dropped 30 pounds and that I could too!

I am not a fan of the meth and crack diet so I’ll have to pass on that. I don’t understand why anyone would want to know or care about what celebrities do.

It got so bad that I was almost relieved when I read the cover of the National Enquirer and saw that Bigfoot had been spotted having lunch with the Lochness Monster.

Many people seek fame but I don’t understand why exactly. They have to give up any idea of privacy and cannot even go out to eat with their family without money hungry photographers trying to get a picture.

I can only imagine if this happened to me. There I would sit with BBQ sauce stains on the front of my shirt while I would be downing a plate of ribs at the Cracker Barrel and it would be plastered on the front cover of every magazine cover across the nation. No thanks.

I have had folks come up to me occasionally and ask me to sign one of my books but no one is hiding in the bushes to see what I’m buying at the Dollar Store. It’s bad enough when I go to  Walmart while wearing my T-shirt with the hole in the sleeve and I pray I don’t see anyone I know. Add to that some photographer hiding behind the pork and beans display taking your picture and putting it on magazine covers across the nation and we see how celebrities have to live every day.

I saw a magazine cover that was telling the important news of how some celebrity “came out” and finally announced that he was gay and why I was supposed to care about this. I assure you that I do not. I’m much to busy minding my own business.

Yet somehow, there I stood reading all about it.