About 5 years ago, I was sitting in one of my B.S. college studies courses to fulfill requirements for graduation. It was called Pop Culture Studies. No, it was totally a course, although don’t ask me what grander category it fell into…I want to say sociology, but I might be wrong…
Our T.A. showed us Dramatic Chipmunk as an example of pop culture, and then we’d have to explain the phenomenon. Fast forward to later that year. Parker and I were sitting around on Youtube one night, and Parker said, “I never really GOT Dramatic Chipmunk.”
“Marry me,” I said, and that’s the story of our engagement.*
The point was that animals DO make this look. Is it dramatic? Nope, it’s just a face animals make, and for some reason the world freaked out about it.
Fast forward again to this year. Today, a friend posted this picture on social media.
I’ve heard friends and family say they like certain celebrities, because they’re “down to earth” and “are like us.” Except they’re not. They probably have unending Xanax prescriptions, yoga/meditation retreats, and rehab that involves spas. I don’t know about your life, but that sounds nothing like mine.
I hate to break it to you, media, but deliveries are only dramatic to those close to you. Unless you almost die (which I am not wishing on others), it’s not going to be that different from any other baby popping party anywhere else in the world. Unless it’s premature and on tubes, it’s not that dramatic. These things happen. They happen to the rich and the poor, but the difference is that most of the time, celebrities have specialists and doctors and nurses who cater especially to them.
Were you there when my mom had morning sickness? When a family member almost died from childbirth? Were you there when my friend’s mom tried to stab her because she was on drugs? No.
I get that you want to report nice stories. Write about a dog during a flood who saved a man’s life. Write about the cultural trend of grandmothers being “too cool to be called that.”
But people don’t BUY those magazines (okay, I do sometimes, but your average American in the supermarket doesn’t). People who feed on celebrity news care, and the people actually related to them care. I feel like these magazines should change the titles to “Look at me! I’m a big freaking deal.”
If you want people to care more, here are my suggestions. Sorry, I have no other reporting suggestions. TV Producers, this is for you.
Idea #1: Create a reality tv show. Every season will start when at least 3 willing celebrities announce that they’re pregnant. At that point, they will compete to have the most intense, me-fest, baby-crazy, hormonal breakdowns. Oh, and we’ll make them all live together. It’ll be like Real World meets Fear Factor. The fear being pregnant and not being as important as the other women you’re up against. Maybe some slapping? Don’t put any stairs in that place though. We don’t want any Scarlett O’Hara shit going down. I’m not THAT mean.
Idea #2: Reality show where celebrity preggos live on an island. They have to make food, and at the end, they have to have natural births. Whoever cries/breaks down the most gets kicked off until only one is remaining. They can vote or not, I don’t care.
Idea #3: Reality show. Scientists compete to create new products for expecting families. Products like better diapers, safer car seats, formula. They *may* or may not be in a race to do it. Patent pending.
Idea #4: Morgan Spurlock delves into the “baby industry.” This is for ambitious, adventurous tv producers that haven’t been sued in awhile.
Idea #5: Oprah or some famous celebrity gives health care, homes, and baby clothes/food/diapers to a homeless or impoverished family in need. Crying ensues. No further paparazzi is needed.
You are required to watch one of these shows. Which show would you watch?
Please let this madness STOP so I don’t have to keep posting about it!
*Not really, but almost