getyourgoodnews/seanleary

Various thoughts in and around my mind right now:

* I look at the women Jesse James cheated with and thinks, ``Yeah, that's
about right.'' Then I look at Sandra Bullock and Jesse James together and
thinks, ``Wow, Sandra Bullock's bodyguard sure has a lot of tattoos.''
Sometimes, folks, the only thing opposites attract is a whole lotta
problems.

* I wonder why I Can't Believe It's Not Butter is trying so hard to lure a gay
audience to their product by having Megan Mullally dancing around a
grocery store with a hunky guy to a disco soundtrack. Because straight
guys and I would imagine most women aren't watching this commercial and
thinking ``YES! FINALLY! A FAKE BUTTER PRODUCT THAT GETS IT!!!!''

* I'm also wondering why so many commercials are pitching to guys
watching their waistlines nowadays. Lite beers can't be lite enough -- ``Your
swill is 64 calories? Well, back off you lardos, ours is 55!'' -- and
artery-cloggers like Applebees are having dude tables drool over the diet
menus.

* And just because I want to use the word ``wondering'' again, since they're
having a great deal on it at Blog Mart, I'm also wondering who would
voluntarily allow their baby to be a part of a `parents screaming violently at
each other' scene in a ``Lifetime'' TV movie? I see these scenes all the time
and it's obvious the baby is real. So who is going to let their infant be a prop
in a scene between two yelling strangers?

* You think Liam Neeson is crossing his fingers that when he passes,
Oscar's `This Year's Dead People' montage features a scene from
`Schindler's List' rather than the scene of him going, ``RELEASE THE
KRAKEN!!!?''

* I hope that anyone who rents the film ``The Men Who Stare At Goats,''
and even people who don't, go out and read the book of the same name by
Jon Ronson. Good stuff.

* I might need Dr. Drew's help. I'm becoming addicted to the Wendy's
Bacon Bleu Burger. Damn you, you red-headed hillbilly child and your
magical grill!

* And one more thing: I really want to tell the viewers and producers of
AMERICA'S HOME VIDEOS that getting accidentally kicked in the groin by
your child is not particularly hilarious to the kickee.

And on that note, I'm going outside to play with Jack before it starts to
hurricane here...

copyright 2010 Sean Leary / for more commentary and other stuff see
www.seanleary.com and www.getyourgoodnews.com

PREVIOUS COLUMN: `DWTS' is unfair to Buzz Aldrin

I feel like I'm hosting a talk radio show -- in blog form.

Various topics on various parts of my mind need to be expunged from them
onto this paper-illusion to wipe the slate clean and move on. So, that's what
I'm doing. Read on, comment if so disposed, or completely ignore. It's your
call.

And WGN, I'm available for work whenever you want to offer me a nice
contract...

* I think it's hilarious that Mazda has a new commercial that begins, in sly
voice, ``Word on the street is...'' Yes. Because the streets are teeming with
conversations about MAZDA CARS. Heroin dealers. Junkies. Tranny
prostitutes. All abuzz. In fact, I was just scoring some bennies the other
day while pricing Dirty Sanch...ezes and all the pimps, hustlas and ho's
could talk about was dem wack MAZDAS. WORD!

* I think `Dancing With The Stars' sucks. How the hell is it fair to pit a
professional dancer (Scherzeger) against an 80-year-old astronaut (Aldrin)
and a reality show housewife (Gosselin), as the judges predictably praise
the former and bag on the latter. I'd look awful too if I was competing
against a freakin' ice danc...er or Pussycat Doll. Most anyone would.
`DWTS' judges, I give you a zero, you pompous bastards.

* I didn't know helping everyone live fuller, healthier lives was something an
evolved species would do. Imagine my surprise...

* I know one perfect way we can raise more money for better schools,
universal health care and more benefits for working men and women -- we
can stop giving corporate welfare to Wall St., and send pipe-swinging
mafioso there to collect the billions they stole the past two years.

* I love how the same douchebags who shriek for `capitalism' and `the free
market' unencumbered by government control' are the ones who are
constantly expecting that same government to save them from their
overindulgences that would cause their rapid demise in a true free market
capitalistic system.

* I don't know why the Fantasy Baseball experts are so down on guys who
consistently produce and so enamored with gambles. Now they're down on
Nick Markakis because he's averaged ONLY 100-20-100. ONLY? And the
guy's going into his 27 year (historic breakout) and hits a ton of doubles
(historic sign of future homer power....) Bad call, ``experts.''

* Thank you to everyone that bought books at my signing last weekend.
Hope you enjoy them! I'll be doing another signing this coming Saturday.
More details to come...

And I'm out. Hope you all have a great day, week, month, year, etc.

copyright 2010 Sean Leary / for more writing see www.seanleary.com and
www.getyourgoodnews.com

PREVIOUS COLUMN: I ACTUALLY DEFEND KATE GOSSELIN

Well, the Mayans may be right.

Because here's another sign of the end of the world.

I'm defending Kate Gosselin.

Normally, I have little but disdain for either Gosselin. Chagrin at best,
disgust at least.

However, I disagree with the criticism she's getting about being a
contestant on ``Dancing with the Stars.''

Surely, there are other people who have been on this show who have kids.
Male and female. And surely, during the eight or nine weeks they're taping
the show or whatever, those people have an array of nannies and
babysitters -- or, GASP!, relatives -- there to help them out.

So why didn't they get nailed by the press and pundits for ``abandoning
their families'' to do the show?

Kate is getting singled out for punishment on this because she's made her
fame as a Mom. If she wasn't a mother of eight kids she wouldn't have
gotten a reality show and if she hadn't gotten that show she wouldn't be
famous, ergo, the only reason she's famous is because she's the mom of
eight kids.

But as the mom of eight kids, doesn't she have a responsibility to do what's
best for those kids? And, as the primary breadwinner in the family, that
responsibility is to make money to support them. Those kids need food,
shelter, medical and dental care, money for schooling, etc. etc. etc. EIGHT
KIDS. That's a lot of bills that need a lot of money. And Kate is the one
who's probably going to have to provide most of it

Jon has never seemed to be particularly ambitious and he doesn't make
anywhere near as much as Kate. She is the primary breadwinner. She's no
different than any man who has to go to work to make most of the money to
keep a household afloat.

And as we all know, there are many times that non-famous and famous
men have to go out of town or travel or be away from their families to make
the money to support them.

That is in essence what Kate is doing. She's signing on for a short-term gig
to make a lot more money than she'd probably make in any other way for
as short a time. She's also striking while she can, while she's still famous,
in order to do so.

I'm sure she'll miss her kids while she's gone. And I'm sure she'll call them
and be in touch. I'm also sure that the kids will be well cared for in her
absence.

They should be, because they should be cared for by their father, who isn't
doing anything with his life but spending money on Ed Hardy t-shirts and
dating bimbos. But they probably won't be. They'll probably be under the
care of a nanny or a relative. Which is fine too, as long as they're
well-cared-for.

And in the meantime, Kate will be earning money to help out her family and
help out her kids. And she'd better do it now while she can, because her
fame clock is ticking, and once it's expired, she's nothing more than a trivia
question who's going to have to go out and get a real job.

There aren't too many real jobs that are going to comfortably accomodate
the needs of a family of nine.

So, Kate, go for it. Sign on for as many shows as you can get. Do as many
book tours as you can, while you can do them.

But just make sure you save that money. Because you're going to need it.

If you do, you'll prove yourself to be a good parent. A responsible adult. And
someone who is worthy of this defense, rather than the condemnation of
others.

copyright 2010 Sean Leary / for more writing see www.seanleary.com and
www.getyourgoodnews.com

PREVIOUS COLUMN: Why Didn't Sandra Thank Her Hubby? And
Other Oscar Bits...

For such a predictable show, the Oscars was actually fairly brisk and
entertaining this year.

That isn't to say I paid attention to it all of the time. There were several
stretches where I didn't -- in part because I had to pay attention to other
stuff, and in part because I just got bored and quit watching.

Comments on the Oscarcast:

* There was little suspense and no real surprises. The winners were all
obvious, with the exception of Best Picture (I'll get to that in a minute). I
predicted all of the main category wins, even Best Pic, and most other
prognosticators picked the same way I did, so I'm guessing that
newspapers running Oscar contests are probably wringing their hands over
tiebreakers around now. Everyone knew weeks ahead that Jeff Bridges,
Sandra Bullock (more on her in a minute), et al. were going to win. The only
question was whether or not the Academy was going to (okay, the minute
has passed, here we are....) award commerce over art and give the Best
Pic to ``Avatar'' even though it was obvious they were going to go with
making history and give Best Director to Kathryn Bigalow. But it was nice
to see they went with the critical fave for Best Pic.

* I'm really kind of surprised that Barbra Streisand -- reknowned lefty --
didn't make a comment about the historical parallel between the Best
Director race and the last presidential race, wherein both involved a woman
running against an African-American with both battling to see who was
going to be the first of their group to win the award.

* I wonder why Sandra Bullock didn't thank her husband. I'm always
surprised and a little irked when people don't thank their spouses. I think it's
really crappy. I mean, the guy's sitting there all brimming with pride and she
doesn't even mention him, instead wasting her time on inside jokes with
Meryl Streep. That's really kinda lame. Especially since the rest of her
speech, thanking her fellow nominees, was very gracious.

* I also find it bizarre when people get to the podium and don't have a
speech ready, or they kind of stutter up and take up space and seem
unprepared. Dude, you just won a freakin' Oscar. You were nominated. You
had a one in five chance. You should've prepared something to say. At the
very least thank all the people who have helped you get to where you are.

* Just once I'd like to hear someone -- male or female -- thank all the
boyfriends/girlfriends who paid the rent and bills for them while they were
starving actors looking for jobs. Surely there were many, many exes who
had day jobs who helped keep food and shelter on hand while the beginning
thesps needed to have their days free to go audition. So why shouldn't they
get some recognition for helping along the way?

* The John Hughes tribute was phenomenal. It was sad to see him go, even
sadder when you looked at all the clips of all the really funny, warm films he
was involved with. Even if you hated ``Home Alone'' or the Brat Pack stuff
you had to like one of his other movies, whether ``Mr. Mom'' or ``Vacation.''
The guy was a major talent, and he deserved the accolades.

So why was the show so entertaining? Well, Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin
as hosts, that's why. Martin is the perfect host. He's got just the right
sense of humor -- dry, witty and sarcastic -- to make it work and he's such
a Hollywood insider he can joke about pretty much everyone and get away
with it. The guy is immensely talented and has proven himself over and over
again so he's got the cache to make those kinds of jokes. Baldwin is right
behind him in terms of that, so he's a good choice as well. But whereas
Baldwin is a good host, Martin is a great one. Here's hoping they go with
these two, or at least Martin, next year.

copyright 2010 Sean Leary / for more writing see www.seanleary.com and
www.myspace.com/seanleary007

PREVIOUS COLUMN: Jason Derulo: The New Music Scene's Rickey
Henderson

Back when he was funny, Eddie Murphy used to do a routine about former
baseball player Rickey Henderson, who used to constantly refer to himself
in the third person.

The routine was hilarious, hearing Murphy's dead-on impression of ``Rickey
Henderson talking about Rickey Hendersonish Rickey Hendersonism in a
Rickey Henderson-esque Rickey Henderson way.''

I have a feeling that somewhere, in some Laugh Shack in a strip mall, an
aspiring Eddie is doing the same joke about Jason Derulo. This guy just
can't seem to rip the ``Hello, My Name Is...'' badge off his chest.

His first song -- ``Whatcha Say'' (more on this later) -- of course featured
him introducing himself and dropping his name via vocoder and crooning.

His second song, which I think is called ``In My Head,'' but I'm not 100
percent sure because commercial radio doesn't identify songs anymore,
which is one of the reasons people are abandoning it for online radio, starts
off with not only a name check, but a back-sell of his previous hit, just so
that people know that it's the same guy who does both songs.

And on top of both of those, his album is called ``Introducing...'' which is
both a description of the disc introducing him as an artist, and a tip on the
content of all the songs, which feature him introducing himself -- just so that
you're sure you're listening to one of his songs.

Speaking of, let's go back and talk about his first hit, ``Whatcha Say'' for a
second.

If the girl he's singing to in this song gets back together with him because
of this song, she's a complete and total dumbass.

Let's look at it for a minute.

He gets caught cheating. She's got him dead to rights. He admits it.

Then, he tries to get her back by promising that he's going to become a big
star, and when he does, well, damn it, he's going to treat her so, so well.

Right.

Get real, babe.

If the dude's cheating on you when he's a nobody, what do you think he's
gonna do when he's a huge somebody and he's got strange lingering around
him 24/7? If he's bangin' behind your back when he's workin' Mickey D's
and stinkin' up a buddy's basement studio ripe with dreams, beats and bud,
what do you think he's gonna do when he's hangin' in Jay Z's studio, out on
tour with a bunch of booty bunnies goon lurkin' around?

Trust us, miss, you're better off leaving him. If he does change, it's gonna
be for the worse.

``Adios, jerk.''

That's whatcha should say.

And of course, then, he'll say, ``Jason Derulo is very un-Jason Derulo-ey in
an unhappy Jason Derulo way about your dismissal of Jason Derulo despite
my overwhelming Jason Derulo-ism and Jason Derulo-esque-osity.''

copyright 2010 Sean Leary / for more writing you just can't live without, and
really, c'mon, you know you can't live without it, you have to go to
www.seanleary.com and maybe buy one of the books on sale there. C'mon,
do it. I need the money to go buy the Jason Derulo CD.

Are Pink and Kelly Clarkson the same person?

Are Pink and Kelly Clarkson the same person?

I've never seen the two of them together in the same spot before. They both
have about the same build, the same kind of puggy nose and the same sort
of grrrrl powerish attitude that's part Spice Girls part Joan Jett.

And their songs SOUND EXACTLY ALIKE.

``Please...please... don't leave me...''

``Myyy life.... my life... would suck...would suck... withooooout you...''

``Something something when I'm soooberrrr...''

They all sound the same. Softish, spare verses, big guitar-driven angsty
choruses. They're Nirvana lLite with heavy production values and a lot of
estrogen anger.

Listening to the radio at various times over the last week, and of course I
have scant idea who I'm listening to because radio stations never identify
songs anymore.

Not that I could tell one way or another between various female singers on
the dial because ALMOST ALL OF THEM SOUND EXACTLY THE SAME.

You can pretty much divide female pop into four groups:

one: The group that sounds like Sheryl Crow (see Caillat, Colbie, et al)

two: The group that sounds like Madonna (see Spears, Britney, et al)

three: The group that sounds like Pink Clarkson (see Pink, Clarkson, et al)

four: The group that sounds like Kanye West or Jay-Z produced them (see
Hilson, Keri, et al.)

At various points there are a couple of other subgroups, including The Diva
Group -- Mariah, Celine, et al -- and the Quirky Girl Group -- Gaga, et al. --
but it seems like most of female pop music fits snugly into those four
groups up there, with all of the artists within them sounding like same
smells from a different nostril.

Some of the songs are good, some of them are mediocre, and some of
them reek like teen spirit -- the cologne, not the song.

But as I'm watching the Grammys last night, I'm thinking, you know who
the real stars are today in pop music? The producers and the songwriters,
because all the artists are indistinguishable from one another in terms of
sound -- sounds that the producers and songwriters created for these props
to warble.

copyright 2010 Sean Leary / for more writing see www.seanleary.com and
www.getyourgoodnews.com

BEST TV OF THE '00s

1. ``Lost'': One of the top five best shows ever made. It's like reading a book
in TV form. Incredibly intelligent, clever, intriguing and multi-layered,
rewarding active viewers and fevered fans of this strange story that all
started with the same rough premise as ``Gilligan's Island'' - dissimilar
group of people crash-landing on a deserted island, conflicts and intrigue
ensues. If you haven't watched it, start from the beginning, rent all the
DVDs and watch each episode in order. You're missing out. If you have
watched it, you're nodding enthusiastically in agreement with me on all of
this.

2. ``Buffy the Vampire Slayer'': Forget ``Twilight'' or any of the other teen
vampire knock-offs, this is by far the best of its undead breed. The usual
metaphors of vampirism equals sex and the supernatural equals puberty are
well represented, although in a much more mature and complex light than
has been trotted out especially in recent years. But on top of any
symbolism, ``Buffy'' is just damn smart, entertaining television with quick
dialogue and great writing.

3. ``The Sopranos'': It had its down spots over the decade, and there were
times when it dragged a bit, but when it was really on, ``The Sopranos'' was
not just the best drama on TV, but one of the best dramas ever to hit the
tube.

4. ``Strangers With Candy'': Amy Sedaris went on to cult fame with a series
of bit parts in much bigger films and TV shows, and Steven Colbert became
a star in his own right, but this is where it all started, in a hilarious, trashy
parody of Afterschool Specials where the lessons learned were dementedly
funny and subversive.

5. ``Freaks and Geeks'': I can't think of a truer snapshot of high school ever
represented on TV - for me, at least. Yeah, the Degrassis and My
So-Called Lives were really good shows, but they were filled with
melodrama that, let's face it, was pretty amped up compared to the lives
most of us lived between the mid-teens. ``Freaks'' hit it on the head for
those of us who weren't battling drug problems or teen pregnancies, and did
so in a way that was heartfelt and funny.

6. ``Arrested Development'': Unapologetically quirky, hip and funny. That's
what ultimately doomed it with a wide audience but it's also what kept
diehard fans like myself watching the hilariously depraved Bluth family
sniping at each other until the bitter end. Hopefully, the big screen version
in the works lives up to the series.

7. ``The Daily Show with Jon Stewart'': Michael Moore famously claimed we
were living in ficticious times under a ficticious president, well, if that was
so, it was no surprise the best news show out there was presented by a
ficticious news anchor. It's a sad state on the corporatization of journalism
that the most fearless newsman on any network was a guy who got his
start floundering around in Gen X fodder on MTV, but it was what it was -
Jon Stewart was and is our generation's Walter Cronkite.

8. ``Real Time with Bill Maher'': And then there's Bill Maher. The guy who
was canned from ABC for going out on a limb with an opinion was given free
reign to let them rip at HBO and free thinkers looking for an outlet for free
speech were invigorated to break away from the jingo factories and hear
actual opinions, differing or not, coming from educated people who weren't
afraid to tell it like it was about current affairs.

9. ``Curb Your Enthusiasm'': Larry David's own personal ``Seinfeld'' was
even darker, cringe-worthier and in its own way funnier and more risky than
Larry and Jerry's network original.

10. ``Chappelle's Show'': Oh, what could've been if Chappelle had stuck
around, but, for the short time he was on, he shoved the boundaries away,
kept taking risks and just kept on making us laugh.

and the rest…

11. ``Undeclared''; 12. ``The Wire''; 13. ``Fringe''; 14. ``Angel''; 15. ``Andy
Richter Controls the Universe''; 16. ``Heroes''; 17. ``Carnivale''; 18. ``Dr.
Who''; 19. ``Entourage''; 20. ``South Park''

copyright 2010 Sean Leary / for more writing see www.seanleary.com

PREVIOUS COLUMN:

Sorry, Swamp Things, This Might Offend You

Welcome to the column for all carbon-based lifeforms. If you breathe
oxygen, this is the one for you. And if you live on a planet, especially earth,
well then, you've come to the right place.

Sorry, but I'm just following the new trend in advertising: Casting as
absurdly wide a net as possible.

There used to be a time when products were advertised to a fairly
specialized base. Each of them could be counted on to pander in their own
unique way.

You'd have your commercials aimed at seniors where someone sincere
who used to be on TV when it was still in black-and-white would give a
testimonial to whatever product they were shilling. Said commercial ended
with the person looking into the camera and intoning something to the effect
of, "And you know why I, Wilfred Brimley, recommend Aunt Bea's Fiberrific
Oatmeal? (Dramatic pause.) Because I eat it too."

Then there were the opposite extremes -- the ads aimed at kids and
adolescents. You'd get loud music, quick cuts, scenes of people
skateboarding off the rails at the grand canyon, some cute, acne-free
twentysomethings posing as teens and a voice-over guy yelling the merits
of NEW! EXTREME! INSAAAAAAAANE! CHEET-OS!

Somewhere in between you had ads aimed at guys (which usually featured
attractive women, or athletes giving a testimonial) or ads aimed at women
(which usually featured attractive athletes, or women giving
a testimonial).

But somewhere along the way, marketers, in their zeal to lure in
customers, started to get increasingly desperate -- and vague. One
automobile company markets its SUV/minivan/whatever they're calling their
human transport right now as "the car for life."

The car for life.

Because so many of those other cars are made for zombies, vampires,
ghosts or the traditionally dead.

I think most cars aside from the hearse are made for life, but maybe that's
just me.

Then there's "the TV for men and women." I'm really glad they finally made
one of those. I'd grown tired of having to share the tube with my dogs, who
tend to want to watch "Lassie" and Animal Planet over and over again. And
those electronics companies were so arrogant about ignoring we humans
as well. Heck, RCA even blatantly rubbed it in our faces by making sets
that were tailored to specific canines -- Jack Russell terriers -- and then to
completely chap us, they put two of the condescending mutts
in their logo.

But it's not just big ticket items getting the universal net treatment. I kid
you not, this is a direct quote from the late night Colon Cleanse infomercial
playing on TV right now: ``Anyone who has an intestinal tract, AND anyone
who eats, needs to watch this!''

Now THAT'S called targeting a very specific market. Boy, there are
demographers out there that are seething with envy after hearing that.

But there are always loopholes, and the hard-hitting questioners in the
crowd of an infomercial can consistently be counted on to find them. I can
imagine the exchange...

AUDIENCE MEMBER: ``Uhhh, yeah, uhhh, I have an intestinal tract, but I
don't eat. I manufacture nourishment through photosynthesis. Is Colon
Cleanse still for me?''

PROGRAM SHILL: ``Of course. Half-man, half-vegetable swamp things
ALSO need to be detoxified on a regular basis.''

Cue star soaring across the screen trailing NBC Peacock rainbow bearing
the slogan... ``The More You Know...''

Although in that case, perhaps the less you know, the better. So, if you'll
excuse me, I'm going to end this column for all readers. After all, I've got
two jealous dogs to taunt and zombie hitchhikers to avoid.

copyright 2009 Sean Leary / for more writing see www.seanleary.com

PREVIOUS COLUMN:
Hope It Was Worth It, Tiger!

Talk about a fall from grace. This has got to be one of the worst.

Sure, Kobe was accused of rape and we found out that he'd been porking
around, but he was acquitted, the girl was painted as a blackmailer and he
skated off to win a championship.

Jordan had his share of peccadilloes exposed, most notably the gambling
problem and some uncorroborated affairs, but, again, he remained pretty
bulletproof and successful.

Tiger, I don't know.

Here's a guy who was so vanilla he was endorsing Buicks.

He's a guy who everyone thought was beyond reproach.

A guy who everyone thought was upstanding and a perfect role model for
kids.

Now it turns out he's far from it. Far, far from it.

Two things really jump out to me in the midst of this scandal.

One: Why do these guys bother getting married? Seriously. You know
you're a dog. You know you're going to want to dog around. You know
you're not gonna stop. So why bother getting married? If you really want
kids come up with some conception contract whereby you find yourself a
fine surrogate to have your children, or adopt. Why are you entering into a
marriage you know you're going to sabotage? Why not just go the Derek
Jeter route, date around and have a private life?

Well, you might say, you fell in love. That's why you got married. Well, if
you really love the person you wouldn't be dipping your wick in anything
with a pulse, a weave and a pair of fake tits.

Two: Tiger, you are a dumb ass. Really. You are a freaking dumb. ass.
How? Oh, let me count the ways. We'll start with the serial cheating. We'll
go on to the blatant serial cheating in public with women who were
obviously a few Gs away from a tabloid tell-all contract. And we'll continue
on with such brilliant moves as recording a freakin' voice mail incriminating
yourself and move on from there.

So, will Tiger recover?

He'll recover to a certain point if he can maintain his success. If he can get
back on the links and play to a high level, people will, to a certain point, put
aside the other stuff.

But he'll never recover to any point resembling where he was before in
regard to being a role model or anyone to emulate.

So he's lost that.

He's lost all credibility.

And he's going to end up losing a giant chunk of his fortune, probably his
marriage, and definitely the respect of his kids, who will get to see just what
a giant jackass their father was -- courtesy of archive video, print and
electronic links, not to mention the ridicule of their classmates.

And all for the chance to bang a few more skanks.

Hope it was worth it, Tiger!

copyright 2009 Sean Leary / for more writing see www.seanleary.com

PREVIOUS COLUMN:
Inside the Insatiable Hunger For Celebs' Diet Details

What did you have for breakfast this morning?

Orange juice? Me too!

Coffee? Me too!

Leftover pizza? Me too!

I guess there must be some special bond between us. Something unique.
Something real. You know, I haven't felt this way since I read that Charlize
Theron likes to drink Red Bull --- just like me. I hadn't felt that way since I
had read that Sarah Michelle Gellar is a big fan of tiramisu --- just like me.

Those revelations were so important to me, my sense of identity and my
sense of well-being, because they gave me a tangiable, iron-clad link to
someone famous. And that, we all know, is the key to true self-worth.

So, I guess what I'm saying is, thank you, Entertainment Weekly.

But it's not just EW that deserves my gratitude. I read a lot of entertainment
writing. Tons of magazines, books, websites, you name it. So I see a lot of
the same phrases and conventions over and over again. One of those tropes
is that if the writer of a celebrity profile is meeting the star over a meal, and
they typically are, they'll always describe what the person is eating, as if
it's an incredibly pertinent detail.

"Brad Pitt orders his ostrich egg omelette with baby capers, pre-pubescent
squid ink and just a touch of middle-aged cilantro..." Why would anyone
care what Brad Pitt, or any other celebrity is eating? I mean, really, unless
they're scarfing something incredibly weird, exotic, or illegal --- heroin and
spotted owl quesadilla, anyone? --- who gives a gosh darn about it? Or even
a golly-gee willikers about it?

Does it really make you feel closer to the person to know what they're
eating? Honestly? Does it surprise anyone? It's as if there's some intrinsic
news value in the fact that celebrities eat food. As if everyone thought that
once they became famous, they were suddenly able to get their
nourishment solely from wearing kabala bracelets.

All legal and illegal stimulants aside, they do have to eat to live. Still, they
must not eat very often, because when they do it during an interview, they're
not very demur about it. In stories, celebrities are always described as
"digging in" or "tearing in" or "ripping into" their food, as if they're
velociraptors devouring the fat D-list actor who gets bumped off first in
"Jurassic Park 4."

Now, if they actually did leap onto their chairs, squat on their haunches,
bare hand the greasy food and attack it before throwing it, still warm, into
their mouths, it would be one thing. But, with the possible exception of Star
Jones, I'm guessing they don't.

Now, some lame-o writers might say that they're using the food as a
metaphor for the celebrity's zeal for life or whatever project they've got going
on. Right.

Some might say they put those details in because they're really trying to
capture every detail of a story, although I never see those same writers go
so far as to tell me what the celebrity smells like.

And other writers might admit that they either put those cliches in just to
break up dialogue, or, most likely, to slyly boast that they, the writer,
actually got to have a meal with a major star.

Personally, I'd prefer to see the space devoted to something more
important. Such as news about the subject's latest project, in-depth
analysis of the star's creative process, or, titilating, lascivious details on
other famous people they've slept with.

But hey, that's just me.

The guy who had orange juice, coffee and leftover pizza for breakfast --- just
like Jennifer Aniston and Shakira!!!

copyright 2009 Sean Leary / for more writing see www.seanleary.com

PREVIOUS COLUMN:

How It All Got Started...

One of the questions I'm most often asked (right up there with ``Will you please leave me
alone?'') is ``How did you become a columnist?'' Readers have wondered if it's something
I've wanted to do all my life.

Well, not really.

My early career goals included wanting to be a guitarist for KISS, a professional basketball
player, a S.W.A.T. team member and a comic book artist.

However, my column-writing career did get an early start, due to an ambitious teacher.

The following is a ``column'' I wrote in second grade for a ``newspaper'' we were making
for class. We were supposed to write about what we did and didn't like, and our lives in
general. (As if any of us had intriguing lives at age 7. It's not like I went to school with
Drew Barrymore.)

My comments are included, where applicable, but aside from some minor editing, and
changing all the names of real people, this is pretty much verbatim. (And yes, I did get in
trouble for using the word ``sucks.'') Get ready… it's time to jump into the way-back
machine, Mr. Peabody…

* * *

School sucks. Especially when you're seven-and-a-half. Remember the good old days of
kindergarten? You got to play with toys and draw dinosaurs and come home to lunch to
watch Casper and the Three Stooges. Now the only stooge I get to watch is Sister
Margaret. When she wears her robes she looks like a fat white ghost, so maybe she's
related to Casper too.

Now we don't even get decent recess times. Sister Margaret made me bang erasers
during recess Monday because during lunch I made loud fart noises to gross out Amy
Martin so she'd give me her HoHos. Then when Sister left the room, me and P.J. Rink went
up and put on her glasses and grabbed her ruler and imitated her. Then we drew ``KISS
RULES!'' really big up on the board.

I have a KISS folder that's got Gene Simmons on it. He's the KISS guy who spits blood and
fire and I heard he's got a lizard's tongue sewed on to his so it would be easier to spit fire.
Man, that would be excellent!

Kim Jordan told on me and P.J. though and we got detention after school. Kim Jordan
stinks. Really, she does. She's got a Banana Splits folder, that's the only cool thing about
her. We put ``Kick Me, I've got B.O.'' signs on her back though, so we got bloody revenge!
(Editor's note: Lord knows what ``bloody revenge'' is, but it was a favorite phrase of mine
when I was a kid.)

One time Sister Bard broke a ruler on my head in religion class because I asked her if the
Last Supper was Jesus' Big Kegger. (Editor's note: This is more innocent than it seems. At
the time I really had no idea what a kegger was. I overheard my babysitter saying it to her
friends, and asked her about it. She said it was a bunch of people getting together. Then
she told me to go watch TV and continued smoking pot with her friends as they listened to
Pink Floyd's ``Dark Side of the Moon.'')

Then I said Jesus was standing on John the Baptist's head when he was walking on the
water. Sister Barb said I had the devil in me, so I started drooling like Gene Simmons. I think
I told you, I think Gene Simmons is really cool. I want to be in KISS when I grow up. Or
S.W.A.T. (Editor's note: Special Weapons And Tactics, remember?) I'll bet Jesus would've
laughed though. Jesus seems pretty cool. Any guy who gets to fight demons and knock
over a church seems alright by me. Then he rose from the dead. Cool! I want to do that
stuff!

Wednesday, Kristy Malone punched me in the arm because I called her a hairy Scotsman.
She was wearing a red skirt different from her uniform. It was like these guys I saw on
TV that were playing bagpipes. They had huge beards. My uncle Wally told my Dad a joke
and he started laughing and then they both said not to repeat it to my Mom. But I didn't get
the joke anyway, I just remember the hairy Scotsman part.

Kristy isn't too bad for a girl though. She likes ``S.W.A.T.'' and ``Welcome Back Kotter,''
and ``Starsky and Hutch'' like me. A lot of girls don't like that stuff. My sisters like ``The
Hardy Boys'' but I think it's stupid.

Kristy also likes UFOs. I was telling her one time about the hole I dug in my garage to hide
out from the UFOs when they came down to invade. Me and Steve Alfanso pulled up the
stones on the floor and dug it up. My Dad got really mad though when he saw it. Fine, he
can stay outside and get liquidized by the raybeams.

One time me and my friends dropped milks out the window at lunch. We're on the second
floor so they splattered pretty good when they hit the blacktop outside. It was going pretty
good until one of the teachers from downstairs noticed. Our teacher was out of the room,
but once she came back in we got caught and got detention. (Editor's note: Getting caught
and being punished with detention was a leitmotif of my school days.)

Some of the things I like: KISS, Razzles, McDonald's, the Bears and the White Sox, the
Champions and the X-Men (comic books) and Spider-Man, basketball, Rufus (Editor's note:
A green, stuffed dog I had. No relation to Chaka Khan.) and kick the can. Things I don't like:
Sister Margaret, Sister Barb, Mr. Buck next door because he's a weirdo (Editor's note: The
man used to hunt squirrels with a bow and arrow - in his back yard.), cauliflower and
``The Hardy Boys.''

This is the column of my life. Amen. The End. Applause, applause.

copyright 2009 Sean Leary / for more writing see www.seanleary.com