So which is it?
Does the media merely provide its readers what they want, or do they fan the flames of celebrity fixation?
I was neutral on Britney for most of her career. Truth be told, I’m well over the age of her target market. It wasn’t until people began bandying about the term “train wreck” in reference to poor Britney that I even took notice of her.
And then it became interesting. How low can she go? Is that a wig or has her hair grown back already? How much therapy will it take to get her past her guilt about her sons? And so on.
Picking on Britney has become a sport, even a hobby for some people. The rest of us cry out that we’re sick of Britney stories, so let’s move on, okay? Yet we continue to take notice when her face appears on the tabloid news, whether we admit it or not.
We’re an unforgiving lot.
What would happen if we allowed ourselves to feel compassion for her?
“What?” you say. “That irresponsible monster of a mother? That crazy, attention-seeking, lying maniac who got pregnant too early and paraded her fat body around on the MTV music awards like a zombie?”
Yeah, that’s the one I’m talking about.
I’m talking about the little girl who was rewarded for seeking the limelight, the little girl who was valued for her beauty and her body as much as her singing and dancing talent. I’m talking about the girl who was given waaaaaay too much wealth and power and attention too early in life.
I’m pretty sure that I would have been even worse in her shoes. I remember myself in my early twenties. I loved to party, loved to be beautiful, and loved attention. I was overly proud of my moderate talent. God knows what I would have done if the world had been fawning at my feet.
But my antics and my histrionics were okay, because nobody beyond my own circle really knew I existed. My mistakes didn’t appear on the front page of the National Enquirer.
Britney isn’t much different from me, except that she has way more talent, is way better looking . . . okay, we’re not that much alike. But my point is that the kinds of things happening to her are happening to thousands of airheaded young people every day. Only their mistakes don’t appear on the national news.
What was the remedy? Simple: age.
I’m not suggesting all young people are foolish and wild.
I am suggesting that foolish and wild people do get better with age.
In twenty years, we’ll remember Britney and think “Wow, remember her?” And they’ll do a “Where Are They Now” piece on television, and we’ll see that Britney is really involved in her church and maybe does the occasional acting bit on a made-for-TV movie.
In the meantime, what’s the harm in the rest of us taking the high road and expressing hope that she’ll get it all figured out soon?
