Lindsay Lohan and the Celebrity Personality Makeover

Sometime over the summer I was reading an article in the Los Angeles Times about San Francisco poet, August Klenizahler.   I read how he was the bad boy of verse, and how he has alienated fellow poets with his critiques of their work.   He has  disenfranchised himself from the Academic literary scene by pronouncing their writing programs”multi-million dollar Ponzi schemes.”   All in all, he has pissed off a lot of people in the literary community.

Kleinzhaler’s legacy is he literary tradition of two fisted poets and story tellers who have sometimes allowed  their colorful reputations to surpass their  writing talents.   Their drinking and fighting gets in the way of their careers.   They show scorn where they are supposed to display humility.   He openly sneers at what he terms the bullies of his business.  Whether it is an act or genuine, or a little of both,  you have to love the guy for what he is.  Aside from all this he is a very talented writer who can select the images that can pronounce the truth of a scene or an incident.   That plays like music on the deeper emotions.

Whether Kleinzhaler will mellow with age is still out with the jury.   Whether he will be embraced as a curmudgeonly literary icon, much like Charles Bukowski, remains to be seen.  Whether he will undergo a  personality makeover is doubtful.   Depending on your own view of the world and the need for success and acceptance, August Kleinzahler seems incapable of either enduring that ungainly process or possessing the good sense to turn his career around.

The article about Kleinzahler started me thinking about any number of artists are born with a skull full of demons who cause them to abrogate their successes with acts of contrariness and self-destruction.  Kleinzahler may well have a reason for confrontation.  There is much to be said about his critiques of the middle brow hacks out there in the world of Academia who pass off what meager talent they have for creative achievement.   I have known a few of them myself, to say the least.   But I digress, since this is not really the point of this story.

As for the other artistic personalities, they may have  what to them seems like rational perspectives for choosing disruptive behavior.  Others may have been influenced by the wrong people, or let the celebrity go to their heads.  Some succumbed to the demons who have been lurking around since childhood.

Some get over it, and some don’t.   The ones that do get over it and straighten out their lives make good subject matter for the media.   There they can confess to a certain degree about their previous transgressions and then explain how with the help of whatever it was that helped them, they overcame these demons and returned to the path of righteous.   Well, all right, if not the path of righteousness, then at least they gathered enough sense to put their careers back in order.

Some, like Bukowski, a talented drunken brawler, are elevated to to iconic status.   Ron Jeremy comes to mind as one who has been pronounced some kind of national treasure.   Jeremy, of course, was not known for drunken brawler, but made his headlines as a porn star with plenty of stamina.  For awhile there it seemed everywhere you went someone was extolling his virtues, telling the world what a nice guy Jeremy was.   I believe he is.   Not that I know him, other than having sat across from him in the deli now and then.   Out in the Valley where the bulk of the porn films are made.   It just seems odd some would deem him a national treasure.
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There have been many others who were the bad boys and girls of celebrity. After years of drug and drink soaked depravity, fighting and fornicating in all the wrong places,  they became freak show attractions. The only attention they drew was the kind of attention they no longer wanted.   They were laughed at and, worse for any celebrity, finally disregarded.   The trash dumps of Hollywood are littered with their bodies.

Dennis Hopper comes to mind.   He was an absolute pistol in his younger years.  He was renowned for his doping and orgiastic behavior.   He had gone from the heights of fame and approval to the depths of his profession.   And then he cleaned up his act, put on a suit and after years of persuading the Hollywood powers that be, he became respectable.   He was allowed to work again and established himself as a consummate actor.  He is a renowned art collector and an artist himself.    He even votes Republican sometimes and he is the spokesperson for a major financial group’s retirement investment fund pitch to Boomers.   That’s a long way from Taos, New Mexico and other reaches of Bacchanalian history.

Barbara Hershey was another.   She along with what may be the contributing factor to her career downturn, her then boyfriend, David Carradine.   Hershey, after being considered for years the stoned out, loopy, crazy cosmic hippie, cleaned up her act and, yes, put on a suit, and, after some years of persuasion convinced the Hollywood powers that she was reliable once again.  Carrdine, after years personal craziness, drifted back into the bosom of acceptability.   It may have been a Zen thing, in his case.

The list goes on.  Mickey Roarke, after winning kudos for his acting portrayal in the new film, the Wrestler, is about to join the ranks of the redeemed.   Always talented, Roarke was distracted by his personal demons until it was all he could do to find an acting job.  Now he is redeemed, sober, the aged, craggy, veteran of his own personal wars.

And then we come to Lindsay Lohan.   The verdict is not only out on Lindsay Lohan; the court has yet to even convene.  Lohan is still going through her own travails as a club crazy practitioner of libidinous and inebriated activities.   She is involved in a romantic relationship with another woman, which in Hollywood,  despite these allegedly enlightened times, can prove a deal breaker for the leading actress.  As far as her being the leading actress her revolving door relationship with rehab can prevent her from being insurable on any major motion picture.

So if Lindsay Lohan is eventually going to get her act together, she will need to change that act.  She will need to undergo the Hollywood celebrity personality makeover.   It begins of course with sobering up and being much less of an attraction for the tabloids.   Then comes her ability to assure people she is sober and reliable, capable of doing what she is asked.   She may even need to put on a suit.   And then, lastly, as with all the others previously mentioned, there is the matter of talent.   While some are lucky to go places despite their lack of talents, once you fall off the proverbial horse, without talent, you can do all the personality changeover you want and nobody will care.

Talent is it.  Talent is why your industry and even the public will look past the demons and misdeed.   Talent is why they will begin to hope you can make a comeback.   Because, without talent, you can climb back on your horse, but you still ain’t going nowhere.   Not even in the movies.

Business Remains Steady for the World’s Oldest Profession

The world may be going to hell in a hand basket, but the world’s oldest profession is enjoying a steady business.  According to an article in the the New York Daily News, business is pretty good.  However, there is one difficulty–there is less business at the upper end, so to speak,  where fantasy call girls are getting anywhere from $1 Thousand to $4 Thousand and hour.

I guess that’s where the belt tightening operation is taking place.  Fewer players are loosening their belts and letting their pants fall and paying that kind of money.  Instead as one Madame Sadie reports in the article, her girls are doing a brisk business at $260.00 and hour.   Still not the cheapest time, but cheaper than the $1 Thousand.   The article doesn’t say whether she offers block booking or group rates.

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Even Said admits that her clients are calling her prostitutes less frequently.   They are holding out, let’s presume, for when the drive really builds up, rather than the regular…regular.  Others are getting only a half hour’s worth, where the once retained the girl for an hour.   So there is a downside.  It would appear this is something like people getting haircuts.  Leave it go a couple of weeks longer.

At the end of the day, or night, it is nice to see that some businesses are maintaining.   The employees are making some money.  Now if they only had somewhere to invest it….

Plastic, the Buzz Word of the Sixties, is Causing Health Concerns

For years industry has lived down the arguably unfair 60’s Hippie labeling as everything artificial, uniform and lacking in spirit as “plastic.”   Now the greatest concern with plastic may well be the health risks.   In a new study that was published on BreitBart the plastics used in food cans, baby bottles and just about everything else may increase the risk of heart disease and diabetes.   Use of plastics may result in reproductive issues as well.

This is pretty crazy.  It is also controversial with the plastics industry and other related industries denying all claims of danger, while growin evidence indicates there might be a few problems with plastics.   If health hazards are definitely proved this will have tremendous impact.   Think of the bottled water industry.  We will be going back to the faucet and demanding cleaner tap water.   There’s a switch.

This may also create an industry for environmentally sound and sustainable bottles and packaging.   There are reports already that petroleum based plastic bags will soon be replaced with those made from sugar.   Maybe you can eat the bag, after you get finished with its contents.

Meanwhile the controversy will rage for some time to come.   There is too much money on the table for the plastics industry to concede the potential health hazards.   Also, we are not the most innovative society and not very quick to change our habits.   What society is, really?  We are used to what we are used to, and we may keep doing it until…well…we do something else.

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And if plastic increases the risk of heart disease, the major killer, and diabetes, which is not only a killer but leads to sexual disfunction, then think of the impact it will have on the sexual industries.  I don’t mean pornography here, but everything from the alluring commercials and fashion ads, to the way we perceive ourselves drinking beer.   Could put us through lots of changes.

Talk about spoiling the mood.  I guess the upside would be all the money we save on dating.  Who wants to date if the possibility of sex is not in the offing?   Some.  I guess.   But not all that many.   And forget about the lingerie and candles.   A person could lose faith.  Or turn to it.  Hard to say.

So meanwhile, about that beer, drink it out of a glass bottle.   Use tap water, and refrigerate that in glass or ceramic.   Don’t eat off of plastic and don’t be microwaving your leftovers in a plastic bag or styrofoam box.   That should help.  Until something else comes along.

Doing the Laundry on Saturday Night

I live in a high rise.   As with most things, there are pluses and minuses to living in a high rise. The best part of living in a high rise is the views.   And then there are the conveniences.   There are cleaners in the building, markets adjacent.   Makes life easier in some ways.

You develop a sense of living in a community in a high rise.   That’s often an asset.  But just as often when you have noisy or lousy neighbors, the community seems more like a tenement than a high rise.   Then there are the party sessions and the neighbors who act like they just wandered in from a cave just a few short weeks before.

But one thing about life in a high rise and for that matter any building where the laundry room in centralized and accessible to all.   You get to see who is doing their laundry on Saturday night.   Surely, there are older folk, or middle aged couples who between showings on the pay per view race up and down the elevator to get in a load or two.   But then there are the singles.   You see very few younger couples doing the laundry together on Saturday night.  Just singles.   Single men.  For sure.  And a lot of single women.

Perhaps there is no better indicator that life ain’t exactly rich with romance than someone doing their laundry on a Saturday night.    The only other indicator that life is a drag is eating alone, table for one on Saturday night.   It means the networking efforts have failed, the online dating sites have yielded nada,  and the fix up-blind date schemes and situations have resulted in disillusionment.  So here you sit.  Doing the laundry on Saturday night.   Could be the title of a country song.
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I guess the one advantage of doing the laundry on Saturday night is you don’t have to look your best.   Slop around in those sweats and tee shirts that should have been thrown out when the Chicago Cubs last won the pennant.  And oh those pink acrylic fluffy slippers.   Ironically, perhaps, it is not  just the homely sort who stuff the washers and dryers on Saturday night.   There are attractive men and women, sitting on those molded plastic chairs.   Now some women may not be what you call socially adroit, and some of the men may be geeky enough, so inundated with that lonely guy thing, that finding romance may have washed out of their hopes like a rip tide from Hurricane Ike.

There is something to be said for the fact that the laundry doers being seen doing their laundry on Saturday night.   Maybe they don’t realize that people take notice.  Or more than likely they don’t really care anymore.   They are lonely and miserable, and your sneers or pity won’t change the fact they can’t find a date, and dates cannot find them.    What’s really odd, is upon observation, they don’t seem to talk to each other.   You would think they would somehow form a lonely impromptu and random laundry club on Saturday Night.  Exchange numbers, swap spit.  Do something.  Or at least talk with each other, down in the laundry room.   I guess they don’t want to admit to another human that life has left them wanting.

And because of the funky outfits, the matted and unwashed hair and probable bad breath, the laundry on Saturday night crowd is not even a prospect for the other lonely people wandering in from the movies, bars and restaurants, empty handed.   In a perfect world the laundry room could be the post-closing time episode, the salvation in desperation, where those wandering  or staggering in from the parking lot could pick up on something that looks like Gilda Radner, as the Vick’s Vapo Rub-coated Lisa Lubner, in an old Saturday Night Live sketch.   Maybe smelly and gnarly, but, hey, it’s a heartbeat.

But I guess sometimes the world is a cruel place, and people have to fend for themselves in withstanding the harshness.   Where the rewards are meager, at best.  Where those that come home alone from bars are burdened only with a liquor tab.   And those compelled to do the laundry on Saturday Night never  suffer from a shortage of quarters.

Vegans and the Incredible Shrinking Brain

You would think this is the stuff of Alice and Wonderland, where one pill makes you taller and the other makes you small.   But according to a new study out of the esteemed Oxford University claims that being a strict vegetarian can make your brain shrink.    That’s right, vegans are six times more likely to suffer brain shrinkage than, gasp, meat eaters.  Of course, the study also claimed that drinking more than 14 drinks a week will also make your brain shrink, as will smoking pot or being overweight.   Interesting study.

I have often wondered why people working in health food stores can act like morons.   Witness the one the other day who asked to eat half a chicken and salad if I would need a knife and fork.   “No, chopsticks,” I told her,somewhat sarcastically.  So she gave me chopsticks. Therefore, I would take the study further and posit that eating veggies also reduces greatly one’s sense of humor.   But that is my own individual perception.  But many will agree.  Maybe not the vegans, but all the others who derive their culinary pleasures by feasting on the flatulent, ozone tampering animal hordes that graze our depleted lands.   Think of how many times you have been reminded by your self-righteous friends how your eating habits are ruining the planet.

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I have to think of the online dating sites that specialize in vegan romantic prospects.   Like minded people thinking like minded thoughts, with likely shrinking brains.   No variety desired, not on these dating sites.  And sex with someone who devours those awful, flatulent, ozone destroying bests, well that most be unthinkable to those who register on a dating site.   Or maybe they are more practically minded, and just don’t want to bother cooking the food they really deplore.   I know that varying a menu to fit special needs is annoying at best.   Making two different meals, one for youself and one for your romantic partner has to be a major pain.   It can force you to the market for prepared foods.   It can drive you to drink.  Which can shrink your brain.

What a vicious cycle.  What a vicious web we spin.