Monday, May 19, 2014


I'm really no longer at an age where pop culture holds any charm for me; that meaning I'd rather listen to Billie Holiday than Beyoncé.  In fact, (see previous post), Beyoncé holds absolutely no charm for me whatsoever, nor does her rich husband or her strange family.

So imagine my dismay when I found they were in New Orleans, eating at one of my favorite restaurants.  So glad I missed them.  Hopefully they'll be gone by the time I get there next week for my reservation.

Oh what AM I saying?  Jetsetters never stay in one place very long.  Collective, global sigh of relief.

I don't hate these people, I'm just sick to death of being exposed to every aspect of their lives.  This is what drives them, I suppose, the public airing of their fabulous existence, their riches and their mansions.  They get to feel superior and special and the masses get to support them by buying their wares - whatever those wares are.  I don't own a single Jay-Z or Beyoncé tune.  I don't feel I'm missing anything.  And I imagine many people actually find them utterly fascinating, but I'm not one of them, and I think they'd be surprised at just whom they do impress. 

It's probably a pretty unimpressive collection of people with mediocre musical tastes.

Of all the people in the world who do great things every day without ever experiencing a need to be adored or idolized, I sometimes completely wish that celebrities would just get over themselves and stay out of my town.

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