Why Be Interested In Celebrities?

It is an interesting question.  We seem to have a cult of fame in this country.  Or is it really infamy?  So many of the celebrities who get the most media coverage seem to be the ones who reveal themselves to be all too human, and sometimes, downright awful.
(Self-destructive at the very least.)
Why give a rat's you know what about any of these people?
Well, I don't, really, about the ones who seem to be in the media constantly, except to pray and wish better things for the ones who seem so bent on destroying themselves.  The celebrities I follow are people whose work and talent I admire.  People whose work has touched me, made me want to do better with my own abilities.  Sometimes it was a role they played that was inspirational, sometimes just their perseverance in continuing a career successfully after a very defining role.  Sometimes it is their musical gifts, their writing skills, that I admire.
There are some who feel almost like family, I've admired them for so long.  (Mr. Shatner, you and Mr. Nimoy, and Mr. Takei are among that group.  Star Trek has been part of my life for most of my life, and the characters you gave voice and form to are very dear to my heart.  It hurt when we lost Mr. Doohan, and Mr. Kelley.  The universe is a MUCH sadder place without Majel Barrett.  She was a truly lovely person, and I had the great privilege of meeting her once. )

There are those whose accomplishments you admire, and who let you down.  Lance Armstrong is one such.  He didn't need to WIN the Tour de France to be impressive and inspirational.  Just FINISHING that race after beating the kind of cancer he fought back from is astounding.  It saddens me that he felt he HAD to win, and that he further endangered his health by resorting to doping.  And denying the cheating for so long didn't help.  One hopes that the experience will truly humble him,and make him examine his motives and perhaps alter his behavior.  One hopes.  But knowing human nature, one remains a bit skeptical.

Some performers and authors and musicians become so ingrained in our culture that we truly feel they are part of us, and losing them is truly a great national sadness. Andy Grifith, Ernest Borgnine, they were regularly seen faces and familiar voices throughout the childhoods of many people my age.  It felt like losing a favorite relative, albeit a distant one.  We also lost Sherman Helmsley, an actor whose comic timing and expressive face gave us the gift of laughter.

 Nora Ephron was a great loss.  She wrote and directed many movies that touched us.  Perhaps losing a writer/director should grieve us more than the loss of an actor.  After all, the vision and words of such as they give us the characters for the actors to bring to life.  They are the foundation upon which other artists work and sometimes build beautiful and very enduring things.

We have lost musicians that gave us the soundtrack for our youth this past year.  Robin Gibb, Donna Summer, Davey Jones, and of course, Dick Clark, (whom I suspect may indeed have been a distant relative of mine, given that the men in my immediate family do not show their age, either).  Dick Clark was one of those who helped the talented find the attention they needed to build their careers.  He was not just a familiar face and voice to us, he was one responsible for helping along many of those we listened to through our younger years. 

How difficult it must be to deal with fame.  People who don't know the first thing about you feel like they know you.  It would be frightening.  I admire those who keep their equilibrium and keep their private lives to themselves.  The ones that can do that and still be appreciative and gracious to their fans are especially successful in my book.  To do so with a sense of humor is an added bonus. 
William Shatner does this very well.  His Twitter presence is legendary.  Nobody works that particular social medium as well as he does.  I do believe he writes most of those tweets himself.  He does appreciate his fans. And his sense of humor is wicked. ( And yes, we will still follow you anywhere, Captain, with pleasure, Sir.)

I also greatly admire the acting ability of Ron Perlman.  He first came to my notice as the actor who portrayed Vincent in the 1980's version of Beauty and the Beast.  He made Vincent a person, not simply a character.  To make such a fantastical being seem so very real took great talent, especially since he didn't have most of his face to work with given the extent of the makeup.  Many other roles he has done have presented the same challenge.  It is a mark of his ability as an actor that those roles were successful for him.  Following him on Twitter, I find that he also has quite a wicked sense of humor, but does not interact as much with the fans as Mr. Shatner does.  (He probably doesn't have the time.  I suspect Mr. Shatner doesn't sleep much.) 

All this is by way of saying that those who achieve fame, to whatever degree, in this society are just human beings like the rest of us.  They are in most cases more talented than the rest of us, and so they share those gifts, but some are just outrageous people who seem bent on destroying themselves in public.  What does it say about us that so many of the self-destructive get so much more attention than the truly talented and constructive?  Many celebrities I follow on Twitter tweet things in support of charities that are dear to them.  They use their fame to a constructive purpose, to help others.  How many of the infamous can say they have done anything like that, except  serving as an example of what NOT to do...
Just my musings on the subject.  My 2 cents, if you will, and probably not worth that much.

I Know I Should Make Myself Write, But...

It's late.  I'm tired.  I've been lurking around on social media sites wasting time.  This is the second of three long days for me.  I worked today, and then had Cathedral choir rehearsal this evening.  Yesterday I didn't work, but I had Master Chorale rehearsal.  I also have to work in voice practice on most days, and most days I don't manage to do it.  Must not ignore the gift.  Must work to make it better.  I keep telling myself that. 
I have been told I have a talent for poetry, and on some subjects I can write well.  Most of the time I ramble. 
When one has a talent, however rough, one is expected to make something of it.  Music is beautiful, and transporting when you get it right.  The hard work it takes to get it right is a very rough slog.  Often quite painful.  Vocal exercises, especially for a soprano, can be grueling, and you will have NO friends or family members left if they once hear you practice. (I've been told I peeled paint, but my voice coach said the effect she sought was wrought by those very irritating exercises.)
However, once you put in the work, and you get into a real piece of music, especially if it is one of the classics, you begin to feel at one with the whole universe.  The music moves you, moves through you, reaches out to others, flows back to you - it's magical. 
That experience can be had in choirs as well.  It is even more meaningful because choral music is a group effort, you must listen to each other, and blend with each other.  I am privileged to sing with an exceptional choir at St. Paul's Episcopal Cathedral in Oklahoma City.  Most of us in Cathedral choir have been singing together for many years now.  We blend very well, we seem to pick up new things fairly quickly, and when we get to sing a piece we know well, it is a moving experience.  It gives me goosebumps.  Master Chorale has a lot of potential to be that good.  If we all work a little more on our own with those large choral works, it will be easier to put together at rehearsals.  We have a lot of good voices, and a fearless, determined director. 
Writing for me has always been more of a challenge than anything musical.  I can FEEL the music.  The writing is also something I feel, but I haven't had a poem present itself to me in a long time.  Most of my poetry is not that profound.  It is just a shorter way to communicate a feeling or even a sort of emotional story.  These blog posts have become more of a journal than anything else. 
The hard slog of writing is even harder for me than the work of vocal exercises.  I don't have a performance looming to force me to work, but I don't want that.  It is a release of angst, a way to send a statement out into the universe saying "I feel this way.  Have you ever felt this way?" 
On rare occasions, the universe answers.
Tomorrow is my eight hour day at the library.  I love my job, I love my coworkers, and I even love some of our customers, but eight hours on my feet is a LONG day.  (Especially when you are a vintage work of art like myself!) 
Here's hoping tomorrow is a productive day.