Monday, March 10, 2008

the price of a little fame

Off and on I am watching crazy British shows on BBC this weekend. I made the mistake of scrolling through a couple weeks of BBC scheduling, marking shows I thought would be interesting. Now I have dozens of kooky health, shopping, and intervention kinds of shows lined up waiting for me to watch.

What mind altering drug must be in the water to move average people to want to be photographed in the their underwear from the least flattering angles and broadcast worldwide? Why would anyone allow a man with a camera to cover a childish fight between you and your fiance over a wedding plan? Don't these people know that if they ever run for Prime Minister, "Yes, your Majesty," these sorry accounts will be exhumed and displayed?

Which makes me think about what I want to be known for. I want to be known for my stunning beauty and style, the rarity of my wisdom and 7 best selling novels that reveal the human condition subtly and yet with astonishing insight.

But I will probably be known, by a very limited audience, as being a pretty good woman, always on a quest, always with a new wacky idea (we should do it - come on it will be fun!), always hoping to one day be willowy, and always open to loving people, especially my grandbabies.

I have surprisingly few unfulfilled hopes. I do not want, for instance, to be famous. I do not want to be filmed in my underwear for TV. I do want to try that new Indian restaurant in town - I hear their Korma is fabulous.

4 comments:

karen said...

I rather suspect the reason people are so desperate for recognition of any sort is precisely because they DO have unfulfilled hopes and dreams, and they hope attention, however fleeting and negative, will be the answer to their quest. As I have no desire to see anyone (except my beloved) in their underwear - not even a great woman like you - I am glad you have found your life's fulfillment in much better places.

Anonymous said...

Marilyn, I just found your blog! This was a great surprise on this dreary winter day in March. Just so you know, you may not become famous (though I highly doubt it), but you are already a living legend in this family and many others.

Love you Mar,

-dana

rachel said...

you are deceptively normal, apparently harmless... if only they knew! :)

xo

Anonymous said...

SMILE SMILE SMILE - my crazy fun friend. You are so easy to love, so impossible to keep up with. About those novels - I'm waiting - my human condition could be helped by the 'conditioning' of your kind of novel! M