Fame, Fame, Fame, Fame

I can’t comprehend the allure of fame. I can understand the appeal – in the rare instances when a person knew who I was before I had met them, there was a thrill to it, but I never had an overwhelming desire to pursue it.

For others that pull must be irresistible. That is the only thing I can think of to explain The Surreal Life. Why else would Florence Henderson and Sherman Hemsley agree to appear on a reality show built around laughing at has-beens?

Hasn’t Henderson been able to sock enough away as Mrs. Brady so she doesn’t have to play den mother to some washed up rockers? Hasn’t Hemsley moved on up enough that he doesn’t have to slum with former Playboy cover girls? (Wait, maybe he doesn’t mind that part.)

My point is shouldn’t these two sitcom icons have enough money to keep away from this sort of low-rent humiliation? Unless they are hard up, it must be the desire to be seen, talked about, watched.

Couldn’t they have followed the example of Morrissey and The Smiths, who turned down $5 million to play one festival last year? "The money doesn't come into it," said Morrissey. "It never has. I do what I do because it's all that I am."

This thought has never crossed the mind of Tommy Lee. He, along with Metallica bassist Jason Newsted and ex-Guns N' Roses guitarist Gilby Clarke are forming a band called Supernova and letting Survivor producer Mark Burnett find them a lead singer on the next series of Rockstar.

Seems some people will do anything to extend their 15 minutes.