When I was a little girl I had big dreams.
Often I could be found with a towel wrapped about my head in an effort to recreate a good and proper famous woman’s hair-do. Then I’d sing into my hairbrush microphone much to the delight of my stuffed animal audience.
They loved me.
But my road to fame was cut short one night while watching the Country Music Awards. Though my mama always thought I had the voice of a country angel, this TV show made me realize a mama’s love can make her lie.
I heard talent- real talent. And suddenly, my hairbrush tunes sounded painfully hollow.
And I mourned the loss of a fame I would never know.
I thought about this as I stood in the grocery store line recently and saw magazine after magazine recounting the best and worst moments of 2009. And of course the shocking death of Michael Jackson was splashed across magazine after magazine.
Fame comes at the highest cost.
In one of the last interviews I ever saw Michael do, tears leaked from his eyes as he admitted to living in a loneliness that most people would never know. The very thing that made him a household name, made him a prisoner within himself.
Fame is the most hungry of beasts. What makes you famous today, devours the success of now looking for more tomorrowLeave a Comment