I just finished reading Alec Baldwin's piece in New York Magazine in regards to his dismay over public life. After reading all about the massive cross he has to bear by being a celebrity that makes millions of dollars, I still don't feel bad for him. His new baby, on the other hand, is another story.
Celebrities and their children. This country has a lot of odd obsessions: reality television that is not based in any reality, shopping for Christmas gifts at absurd hours on national holidays, extreme skiing, doing 20 minutes of abdomen workouts in less than 10 minutes and expecting the same results and, even more than all of those things, we love celebrity children.
Our intense love of Hollywood's spawn starts early; we watch for slightly significant baby bumps, we fixate on growing bellies, we laugh over how "like us" celebs' high-calorie cravings are, we both criticize and laud post-baby bodies, we mock the weird names they call their children, and we love love love to look at pictures of their kids. We love it!
Why do we love ogling over pictures of celebrity whippersnappers? Who the hell knows, but we do and because of that fact, magazines that focus on the intimate lives of famous folk feed our addiction with highly publicized exclusive photos, daily updates on how these children's lives are better than our own and comparison pics of which baby wore it best.
But lately, our worship of the recognized rug rats has gotten a lot of heat from none other than their attention-loving parents.More »