CENTRE STAGE - as I write this , CNN is on the tv in the background... Nothing against the cnn reporters, slash anchors, but I took notice one day that as smart , as pretty ,as engaging as they may be, sometimes, maybe on a day when they are especially happy , the tragic stories they report, or maybe the serious stories they report just seem to be that- a story. I'm not dissing them. They aren't the story here. there's nothing wrong with what they do. there is just a natural disconnect, which is more than understandable. They are safe, doing what I presume they love, with world recognition and would also presume , with respectful renumeration for their efforts. AT TIMES I have felt their joy in discussing, interviewing, reporting the news is almost a happy schoolgirl manner, not all the time, but I have sensed it from time to time. I would be no different at times myself, if I was reporting. SOMETIMES , I feel like we, the world, is headed for such turmoil, that it would make our heads spin if we could perceive it, but we carry on like it's all going to work out alright. ESPECIALLY for those of us here in north America. And why..because that's the way it's always been. WE are the world's rock star. Everybody wants what we are, who we are, how we live The world has envied us , hated us for luxury and fame and power. WE speak , the world intently listens. We walk down an ordinary street and the scene becomes a stage for enthusiastic fans and haters to glory in our protected presence.or bite their protracted tongue. BUT the fans are getting tired of our production only songs, they can tell were likely too strung out and tired from all the partying and to confident in our past success to take the time and effort required for an album worthy of our wonderful talent. Talent that has been waneing over the years. The girls , the parties, the drugs, the drinks ,the fast food , the lack of sleep, the delusion that we would always be numero uno,that our youth would extend to our old age, that the money could never run out , that all the KINGS men would be able to put humpty , together again, they are taking a toll now .As we stand on the stage of the world and belt out our latest tune as we swirl and dance across that stage, it seems as if our body is yelling' your not that young anymore. Somehow it seems the masses of fans in the audience not only are noticeably smaller, but also less enthusiastic. REHAB THE ROCK STAR. --? Maybe that's the secret .the clue the answer the beginning of wisdom here. We weren't always a rock star. Once upon a time we were a sweet child . We used a wooden stir stick as a microphone as we shyly mumbled a tune that barely resembled the monumental hit we heard on the radio fifty thousand times. OUR TALENT was almost unrecognizable, at that age, but our boldness mixed with innocence was more than enough to secure an audience with family members who applauded insanely even before we completed the song and dance. Somewhere in that soul of ours , the seed that would produce a beautiful monster, was watered and the soil of that soul began its nutritional transference so as to build a star of the stage.Here we have a fork in the road if we ask or even inquire in any way shape or form, as to how this child succeeded so wonderfully.Was her destiny a destiny. THERE are a number of rehabs available,each with their own style and format and doctrine. Does the star of the show have any indication, any self revelation or awareness that she is slipping into an abyss.? IS it an abyss from which their is no return or simply a minor rough spot on the road? Are the competing stars on the stage conspiring to bring her down so they can have centre stage? Is there some mystical force at work who has decided her time is at hand? Will she seek rehabilation? IF she chooses rehab .will she choose the one that will be most effective? WE continue to mindlessly hum her latest release, and cancel all calls that would interfere with her spellbinding song and dance that mesmerizes us into exuberant exaltation enabling us to not only live with hope but thrive with electric enthusiasm; even as she stumbles on the stage with exhaustion and weakness and with marks on her body of self inflicted wounds.
