Not My Bidness

I love TV and movies. (Not as much as I love my books). The characters almost become real people to me. I love to watch series TV shows, so I get to see the characters evolve and watch as their relationships grow (as much as the shows allow anyway).

Naturally (or maybe unnaturally) this makes me curious about the actors who play them – what they’re like in their personal lives, whether they’re as funny in real life as they are on the shows, who they’re dating, etc. I get really hung up on the funny thing. It’s one of those things that I don’t think people can fake, so I’m always trying to find a way to prove that theory.

I used to love reading People Magazine, OK!, all the random rags that follow celebrities, get photos of them being “real” people, making up stories about them (like Jennifer Aniston getting married 7 or 8 times, the Obamas getting divorced because he’s gay, an so on). I was all over Kimye naming their kid North (still – seriously?), was heartbroken (twice) when Ryan Reynolds got married, following them on Twitter just to see if they’d say anything interesting that might give any kind of insight into what they’re really like. All I learned is that John Cusack is kind of out there.

I’m not even sure what got me thinking about it, but a few weeks ago I realized how ridiculous it all is. I have watched celebrity reality TV – Gene Simmons – The Family Jewels, Keeping Up With the Kardashians. It’s horrible, but you can’t tear your eyes away from it. I didn’t turn it on, but my stepfather really enjoyed it. It’s not real life. I don’t even know if the know what real life is.

The point is, it’s not my business. That Kim Kardashian was only married for 72 days or Britney Spears for 54 hours – that’s all their own shit. I can’t imagine what it’s like to live under the constant scrutiny. I would like to think I’d be the same person I am right now since I don’t tend to change much. (Seriously, I ran into a middle school friend after college and she commented on how I hadn’t changed… since I was 12. She’d probably say the same now and that was 20 years ago.) But, I can’t know that. I don’t think I have anything to hide, but Mr. Lyndsy may not want everyone knowing everything about us.

Being a celebrity doesn’t mean that their personal lives become our business. I’d be willing to bet my future lottery winnings that most people wouldn’t want to be watched 24/7, unable to do much of anything without some papparazzo following them, having everyone know when you have a pap smear or a prostate exam, speculating on your physical and emotional health.

So I’m giving it up. Hard as it may be, I’m no longer looking people upon IMdB to get whatever I can of their background (well, most of the time anyway, it’s not easy to break old habits). I don’t go to people.come to check out celeb photos. I don’t even think about picking up the magazines (not that I have a lot of access now anyway). If it’s relevant to the public sphere I’ll check it out. If not, it’s off limits.