This has not been a good week for celebrities. Look at the broad range of this mortality play: Ed McMahon, an aging host and announcer from late night television; Farrah Fawcett, the cancer-stricken one-time sex symbol, Billy Mays, the humble infomercial guy hawking detergents, and of course, Michael Jackson, the child prodigy who became a mega-star basking in world-wide glory, only to fade into a caricature of the pop culture.
Of them all, only Billy Mays might have been at the height of his career when Death took him. The other three had certainly passed the zenith. What can we observe and learn from this spectacle of adulation and mourning?
For a start, we can observe that human beings do not wear glory well. Fame may not be sin as such, but like sin, fame seems to provide pleasure only for a season before turning sour. If the pop idol does not progress from the pursuit of fame to some other meaningful goal, their future often will be dim. A few remarkable celebrities have broken the pattern by moving into entirely new careers: Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis became a successful book editor; Paul Newman excelled in racing and co-founded a charitable food company; Brian May of Queen is an astrophysicist.
Fame itself acts as an addictive substance. Once tasted, for many individuals the craving for 
more is irresistible to the point of self destruction.
Fame provides no protection from the common ills of humankind. Heart disease, cancer and all the afflictions of age have no respect for celebrity. Fame seems to invite chemical addictions of all kinds. It appears to put marriage at enormous risk and to place offspring in great danger of every sort of harm.
These things are common knowledge. And still people sacrifice everything they have willing to sell their souls if only they could, to clutch at fame.
Irene Cara achieved fame by performing in the movie and song "Fame," which both expressed a pathetic ambition:
I'm gonna make it to heaven, Light up the sky like a flame - Fame
I'm gonna live forever, Baby remember my name!
Another hit song by the same name, sung by David Bowie, takes a different view:
Fame, what you need you have to borrow,
Fame!
So here we are, clergy spouses, possibly minor celebrities in our own little parish circles, or at least sharing the spotlight with our up-front spouses. At times it feels as if we're living in a fishbowl. Just imagine adding the paparazzi into that mix, along with publicists, agents, lawyers and maybe a stalker or two.
When it comes to counting our blessings, freedom from fame should be pretty high on the list.
