Friday, July 27, 2007
Sign here, I will wrangle you.
With all the celebrities crashing and burning lately, both in lovely Hollywood and even here in Hotlanta with The Falcon’s QB Michael Vick, I was wondering why no one has chosen to take on the old movie star handler jobs of yesteryear. Sure, the celebrities have their publicists, agents, personal assistants, bodyguards, doctors, hairstylists, stylists and make-up people, and assistants to their assistants, but aren’t all of those people paid by the star to do whatever the hell the star wants them to do? I am talking a new person -- a handler that is put on the star 24-7-365 by the folks PAYING the star. The Falcons and any one of the sponsors, Nike, Airtran, Cocacola, sprint, Motorola, Kraft’s Nabisco cookies might have been attached to and made aware of all the doings of Master Vick well in advance of this media shark attack.
They could WRANGLE the star. It would be stronger than the contracts the stars sign, and in human form. Instead of the Terminator or the Eraser, it’s the Motivator, the Tabulator, the Consciencerator.
I knew someone who when she worked for a TV station as an anchor had to sign an agreement that she wouldn't take her clothes off in a bar, puke in public or yell, "Asshole!" out a car window anymore.Or something like that. She was supposed to represent her TV station, her job, her IMAGE 24-7.
Why can't all of these "stars" do that? If they want to make the money they do, they should have to uphold a more stringent standard- and pay to a charity for everything they slip up.
I want wranglers for all the celebrity beasts- to save them from themselves. No more Britney mothering. No more Lindsay driving. No more bar hopping for the under-aged. No more paparazzi potential, no more tabloid spreads, no more money to be made. Maybe if we stopped looking, they'd stop acting out.