Grilled Halibut with Lemon Recipe

18 05 2009

(the title is so that I can see how many people visit my website while googling “grilled Halibut and Lemon”)

Sorry unwary visitor. 

I’ve been thinking about movie stars lately. I was wondering why so many people orient their whole lives towards achieving fame and fortune. I understand the mistaken idea that rich people have more fun and better lives than “normal people”. “Money is the solution to everything” is the philosophy that seems to ooze out of the very pores of the American public. (I will not speak for other nations… we’ve got enough goobers in this country!) And any kid who was teased in high school can explain in three easy sentences why being famous has it’s appeal. “Famous people have achieved something. Everyone is jealous of them. They are cool.” 

When really… it’s a kind of slavery. Many layers of slavery, actually.

Say that you get that one in a million shot to play a lead in a major motion movie. Immediately you are responsible for a project in which a lot of chubby, angry rich men have invested lots of dough. So you do the movie without developing a stress-related ulcer (well done, by the way!). It’s released to critical acclaim, which you have a horrible suspicion is due more to your co-star Hugh Jackman’s pectoral muscles than any skill on your part. Now you have lots of money and most of the citizens of America know who you are. Cue tabloid rumors. Now, according to popular opinion, you are a raving maniac, or bulimic, or ugly or fat (Size 6 is NOT fat!). Not only which but you cannot go out in public without complete strangers wanting to talk to you, touch you, steal stuff from you etc. You are fairly miserable and want to go live in a hut somewhere in southern Portugal but your agent and personal assistant are breathing down your neck about your next big project. (“No Christian Bale isn’t a raving maniac, we promise! You’ll LOVE working with him!)

So you sign on for a new project and it all starts over again. Only this time you have a myriad of appointments with dermatologists, plastic surgeons and personal stylists. After all, if anyone figured out how saggy/lumpy/pale you are, or how you love to wear nothing but sweat pants and white tank tops, your career would be over and you would be back to being nobody.

And that’s it. It’s the fear of returning anonymity and the total lack of any personal identity separate from a career that keep these people here. Not to mention a love affair with self-indulgence and several dozen other personality-based issues that I could mention.

After thinking this through multiple times from all different approaches, the only thing I’m left with is “Why the cheese nuggets would anyone search that lifestyle out?!” It sounds a whole lot like hell to me. No matter how you gold-plate it it’s a pretty sucky way to live out the only life you’ve got.

Besides, I REALLY like my sweats and white tank tops.




4 responses

18 05 2009
granny the great

I’m with you. Now you know why I gladly sacrificed stardom in my glamour days. (snort) And now I want that recipe.

19 05 2009

There is no recipe! Ha ha! (That was my evil laugh of triumph…)

I am bringing Pain de Mariage over to your house later and you can have bites. Yay for bread-baking.

22 05 2009
granny the great

Those were mighty yummy bites!!! Thank you!

25 05 2009

You are most welcome! I feel the need to make more bread soon…

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