Gatsby Envy
Great column by Nikki Finke on New York TImes entertainment beat journalist Bernie Weinraub's sign-off piece:
It was as if narrator Nick Carraway were given space in The Paper of Record to write honestly about the swell set, only this time he surprises us by revealing that he longed for the green light of status and money as much as Jay Gatsby did. Yet, as an ink-stained wretch and damned proud of it, I’ve got to say, Huh?First, let me fully disclose that I won’t be attacking my pal Bernie personally over what is a beautifully written, though emotionally befuddled, look back at his 14 years inside and outside the entertainment business. (I’m especially sad that he revealed that incident in which he fell asleep during an interview with Jim Carrey, because I used it to blackmail him almost daily.) But for days now, my answering machine and e-mail have been filled with “What did you think of it?” messages, so I feel compelled to publicly examine Bernie’s 2,800-word tale of his Hollywood-style seduction.
And what oozes from it is the gunky notion that a journalist wanted to live like the people he covered here. And he isn’t alone. The studio and network parking lots are filled with the Porsches and BMWs of reporters and critics who jumped the fence (though, to Bernie’s credit, marrying a mogulette instead of writing your way into The Good Life remains a novel route, nonetheless). How abnormal I must be then. Because, clearly, I’m missing what appear to be the essential chromosomes composing the entertainment-biz reporters’ DNA: the Hollywood Envy gene.
As Weinraub writes, when he arrived here to start the gig, “I was struck almost immediately by the prevalence of money, and the crazy economic gap between journalists and the people they covered. It was like dropping into Marie Antoinette’s France.” But doesn’t anyone remember that Ol’ Mary was decapitated in the end? And that Gatsby got a bullet in the back as well? That’s exactly why I don’t lust after the trappings of Tinseltown: Everybody’s success and the conspicuous consumption that accompanies it bear too high a psychic price tag.
I'm dating a guy who's a Hollywood reporter, and he's doing just fine in the cash dept. Maybe there is some "crazy economic gap" between him and the stars he covers. But when the stars make such insane amounts of money, even the scribes/peons on the other side of the gap can be fairly well off. I really don't think he has a Hollywood Envy gene. He's a happy guy (especially when I give him head).
Lena the Guzzler at February 4, 2005 5:32 AM
When it comes to oral sex, it is nicer to give than to receive. I HATE getting it.
Patrick, fan of the Advice Goddess at February 5, 2005 1:35 AM
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