Hear that? That’s the sound of my IQ falling.
A few moments ago, I had the misfortune of watching the show “The Next Great American Band.” I’ll admit that I really enjoyed some of the music, but other than that I was completely dumbfounded by what I was seeing and hearing. I’m not sure how much of this was amplified by convenient editing on the part of the show’s producers and editors, and how much of this was actually coming from the people who were involved, but I can’t believe how much these people are obsessed with fame.
One of the first things that I noticed about the contestants was that they were acting like fame is everything. One particular act, which I believe was the first act to perform, decided that if they didn’t get through the first round, they were going to break up the band. This band had been playing for 35 years; music was their life’s passion. In my personal opinion, these band members were acting exactly like toddlers throwing a temper tantrum when they don’t get their way: they were willing to cast aside their life’s work simply because they hadn’t made it big. They never realized that it didn’t have to be an “all or nothing” situation, and that they could continue to play music because they enjoyed it. When somebody is so hell-bent on achieving fame that they give up their life’s passion when they don’t achieve world-renown, then their priorities are absolutely bent out of shape, and there’s no hope for them.
Where did they learn to act this way? The answer is simple: the media taught them. If you’ve ever been in a supermarket, (and I’m pretty sure you have), you’ve seen the headlines plastered all over the tabloids about the ritzy lifestyles of the flavors of the week…I’m sorry, I mean celebrities. Of course, there’s always the horror story of some celebrity’s $100,000 dress getting ruined at a cocktail dinner, but we tend to overlook that. The public wants the success stories, and the media is all too willing to give us our daily fix, telling us without actually saying it, “Your lives are meaningless unless the entire world knows who you are.” Most of the public fall for this and become obsessed with the glitz and glamour of fame, and some strive to achieve it by any means necessary, even if it means giving up everything, and everyone, that they love.
I also noticed the actions of the parents of a group of 12-year-old wanna-be rock stars. I’ll admit that the kids were extremely talented, but I could also tell from their body language that this wasn’t something that they really wanted to do. At first, they appeared to be happy with possibly obtaining fame, and I thought to myself, ‘Okay, maybe this is something that they really want.’ And then I saw the parents, and it all came together. You’ve heard the stories of the show-parent: the mom obsessed with her 4-year-old daughter’s beauty pageant; the father hell-bent on transforming his son into the football player he could never be. You know, the parents willing to ruin their children’s lives so that they can live vicariously through them. I could tell just from looking at the actions of the parents and the kids that the parents wanted this more for their own satisfaction than that of their children: they were ready and willing to sacrifice the happiness of their children just so they could turn to their friends at a party and say, “My son is a rock star.”
I really couldn’t tell you where these parents learned to behave this way. Perhaps their parents did the same thing to them when they were children, and because they didn’t have a choice, they figure they’ll encourage (a.k.a. force) their children to do what they never could. Perhaps they really are that domineering and sadistic enough by nature that they could ruin their child’s life without batting an eyelash. Who knows?
The contestants and the parents need to take a step back and look at themselves objectively. They need to rearrange their priorities and realize that achieving fame isn’t the most important thing in the world, and that it won’t necessarily make you happy. A lot of people seem to think that fame = happiness, when this obviously isn’t the case 100% of the time. Fame obviously made people like Andy Warhol and Edie Sedgewick happy, but then you have people like Judy Garland and Marilyn Monroe. They were famous, and look at how miserable they were! They both died of overdoses, dammit! People need to think about how they act towards themselves and others and decide if obtaining fame is worth losing everything, and everyone, they value.
Is it really worth risking it all for this?