Lately, I have been consumed with the rich and the famous and what their perceived personal monetary net worth is via the reputable website: “celebritynetworth.com”.
This has probably been brought on by my newly developed neurosis: “Oh, my God, I am going to become a bag lady because I have no savings because I have made a shitload of bad mistakes and will probably end up living in a cardboard box” syndrome.
It all started one dark and rainy night about three weeks ago with “Agent 99”, better known as the actress Barbara Feldon
who brilliantly played the aforementioned “99” in the hilarious and riotous but short-lived 1960’s sitcom: “Get Smart.” I thought I could cheer myself up by “googling” supposed “has-beens” hoping they were dead ass broke and if they were….. I could feel better about myself.
who brilliantly played the aforementioned “99” in the hilarious and riotous but short-lived 1960’s sitcom: “Get Smart.” I thought I could cheer myself up by “googling” supposed “has-beens” hoping they were dead ass broke and if they were….. I could feel better about myself.
Only to be told by the reputable website: “celebritynetworth.com” that Ms. Feldon is worth 3 million dollars.
How could that be even possible?
“99” hasn’t worked since probably, well, maybe…..1969.
“She isn’t even “relevant” in 2014…..she is a dinosaur”: I sobbed.
I looked in the mirror and saw my own reflection and muttered: “I am the dinosaur…there I said it not so loud, and maybe not so clear.” as I inconsolably wept over my bathroom sink.
A dinosaur in the denial stage of grief…you know, like Elisabeth Kubler Ross and her five stages of grief, love and whatever.
I began to walk around conjuring up in my head once famous people whom I hoped had died from a heroin overdose in some god-forsaken, back alleyway…. only to find out they were worth a gazillion dollars according to what was now my new nemesis: celebritynetworth.com.
“The rich are different than you and me” wrote F. Scott Fitzgerald
(whom I know for sure was on “Team Robyn” by dying penniless and drunk and alone.)
And, so I eventually came to what I thought was the only logical conclusion as to why I was the recipient of a “one way ticket to Palookaville”: the rich are different from me because they were savvy enough to get on the social media highway while I was still trolling alleyways
desperately looking for former sit-com actors whom had turned into heroin addicts to boost my own tragically, frail pittance of an ego.
“I will buy a computer when they make techie stuff that has a soul”: said I pithily, in the nineties.”They are a fad….no staying power”: I would say in my usual droll smart-ass tone.
I laughed at people who only lived to receive their next text
on their “crackberry”….those kind of people who thought Steve Jobs was really God when me and all my wonky little friends knew better: God was the other Steve…..Stephen Sondheim.
It was probably 2008 when I first heard that dirty word: “Facebook” and as I recall, it was during my do-gooder phase when I was volunteering at the YWCA. One day, I walked in and the woman who ran the programme told me she was on “Facebook”….”What is Facebook”? I queried.
“It is a social site where you can find old friends and schoolmates and make new friends”: she chirped.
I could not connect at all to this new concept since I had spent my whole
adulthood trying to stay as far away as possible from those same people she wanted to re-bond with.
Then along came “Twitter”, I mean: I am a minimalist but even that is way too minimal for even me, and why the f#%k would anyone want to be “Linkedin” to anybody or anything, said Robyn: the commitment phobe.
“It is not going to go away, is it?”: I lamented to my son in 2012.
I had to go get on board whether I liked it or not.
“The medium is the message. This is merely to say that the personal and social consequences of any medium – that is, of any extension of ourselves – result from the new scale that is introduced into our affairs by each extension of ourselves, or by any new technology." (Marshall McLuhan)
Then one day: I did it. Yes, I was finally able to wrap my head around this whole social media concept.
Then one day: I did it. Yes, I was finally able to wrap my head around this whole social media concept.
I began to blog which has changed my life in so many ways, I couldn’t have ever imagined. I am not sure about “tweeting” and I don’t know if this woman ever wants to be “Linkedin”. And in December 2012, I requested a friendship with “Facebook” and now I have friends all around this now small but still global village.
Furthermore, in the past 2 weeks I have even learned to “cybersext”
better known to everyone as typing dirty words into your laptop with one hand while the other hand……..well, you get the picture.
How was it? you ask.
Well, I will tell you.
When I become old and am wearing only purple…when I am forced to embrace my “inner-bag-lady” and when I am residing in my humble abode: that little cardboard box waiting for my next fix of heroin, I will relish in remembering those two sweet weeks way back in September of 2014… when a hot, little horny 26-year-old Iranian sheep or maybe he was a goat herder rocked my world with filthy and naughty but fun language…. and for once in my whole but little luddite life…. I, Robyn Armstrong Bowles, finally, got to be where I belonged…
…ON TOP……..
..and at the height of my game….with SOCIAL MEDIA: my new found friend.
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