By Mark Bazer
With Paris Hilton likely headed off to jail for driving with a suspended license, the people we clearly should all feel the worst for are my parents.
My father, retired, and my mother, soon to join him, have worked far too hard over the course of their lives to have this happen to them. The “golden years,” we’re told, are for relaxation and exploration and writing letters to Newsweek.
But now, through no fault of their own, my folks spend too much of their time processing the latest news out of Paris. Or out of Lindsay, or out of Jessica . . . .
That’s why, every time one of them gets into trouble or does something stupid, and Anderson Cooper goes on the air to tell us about it — while letting us know he’s above reporting what he’s reporting — I can only think, “My folks deserve better.”
Particularly my mom. For my father, at least, any Paris Hilton update is grist for his “son, the values are declining in this country” mill.
My dad hasn’t yet composed a letter to the editor on Paris Hilton, but he did once — to the embarrassment of every person but him with the surname Bazer — have a letter printed in Time about Tonya Harding. After it was published, the rest of the family didn’t leave the house for weeks.
I worry more about my mom. You can tell her to turn the page or switch the channel, but it’s not that simple. This stuff is just in the air.
You and I might be accustomed to breathing in this environment — heck, we might even thrive in it — but think of my mom as an NFL defensive tackle trying to stop the Denver Broncos running game at Mile High. I guess what I’m trying to say is that, had I been able to, I would have given my mom wider nostrils for Mother’s Day.
Of course, Paris and Lindsay and Jessica aren’t the first train-wreck celebrities. For all I know, my great-grandparents were positively beside themselves over the marital patterns of the Gabor sisters. And, historically, young heiresses’ only job has been to be nuts. But, for the most part, theirs weren’t the stories Walter Cronkite was informing the nation about.
There are, to be sure, still high-minded shows that so far have been untouched by the middle-finger-extended hand of Britney. But even with these programs, the writing is on the wall. Take CBS’ “Sunday Morning, which for years would sign off with five minutes of . . . birds chirping.
“From 10:25 to 10:30, there’d be peace, quiet, no talking,” my dad says. “And it’s not just birds. You could see elk, you could see a babbling brook.”
Now, though, laments my dad, “it’s like 30 seconds.” He adds: “I’ve been thinking of writing CBS.”
The thing is, let’s say the producers of “Sunday Morning” decided to end each show with five minutes of Paris and Lindsay screaming at each other and pulling each other’s hair. Maybe down by a babbling brook while the elk looked on. I’d probably tune in.
So, I’m not saying that news of their exploits should be banned or even limited. But I do want my parents, and your parents, to know that, in these dark times, with the Paris-going-to-jail story only getting started, I’m thinking of them.
(c) 2007, Mark Bazer. Distributed by Tribune Media Services |
