Oooooo…that evil little smirk, the shifty eyes peering out from the 1960’s moptop (no kidding that’s the way the haircut was described back then…). It was hearthrob Justin Bieber playing a unibomber on CSI: Las Vegas. Remember hearthrobs?
I think Michael Jackson was one once, before Wacko Jacko. Who remembers David Cassidy? Will Justin Bieber be remembered in twenty years? It doesn’t seem like it now, but twenty years is almost forever. I remember “the Beave.” Don’t know much about “the Biebe.”
Dancing with the Stars (a show I never thought would be successful – proving my lack of TV skills!) is featuring Michael Bolton, a posterboy of the fickle fan movement. Once, his raspy, heartfelt singing made the songwriter a star. One night, he stepped out onstage and discovered he had gone from singer to zinger – the butt of jokes nationwide, alongside Barry “I write the songs” Manilow.
Same thing happened to a guy named Eddie Fisher. He had his own TV variety show, recorded hit records, and was in a couple of movies. He married several famous movie stars. Oh yeah, his daughter, Carrie, played Princess Leia in the Star Wars movies.
Eddie Fisher died yesterday, wheelchair bound, at age 82. He suffered the same Bolton, Manilow, Cassidy fate: fab-famous one day, late-night show joke the next. He tried a couple of comebacks, but the public voted him off his own concerts. No one showed. There will probably be a mention on the evening news, and most will think “Who?” You know, Princess Leia’s dad.
I’m working on the “opposite of” theory. I figure if the big stars can just drop off the map, then maybe one day I’ll wake up and find the tide has turned and my “famous time” will have arrived!
Too late now, for the moptop.
And what did Justin Bieber have for lunch? Now, you can know that, too!