A Blessing and a Curse

Many things are considered both a blessing and a curse. Perhaps nothing more so than my own reserve of pop trivia.

This came to my attention recently when I attended a Coldplay concert. I know enough of their stuff to appreciate when I'm offered a ticket to a sold-out show, so my friend and I hopped in a car and drove to Las Vegas to see them in action. What I did not expect, however, was that my entire evening would involve a subtext of Gwenyth Paltrow. But it did. For the first time I found myself listening to the lyrics of their work and paying attention to Chris Martin, who had always struck me as too skinny and pale for my interest. First of all, I'd like to recant that statement- I never gave the guy enough credit. His stage charisma was incredible, and you could have knocked me over with a feather when he began what was effectively a one-man mosh pit performance, jumping up and down and all around for two hours straight.

As I listened to the lyrics and watched him perform, though, my mind kept straying to that darn reserve of pop knowledge. I thought about him and Gwenyth, how they had met. Was this song about her? Was that one? Whose idea was it to name the kids Apple and Moses? Were the names meant to be kinda funny or were they done with the dead seriousness of his pledge to support Oxfam? Does he like Madonna or does he just put up with her because she and Gwen are BFFs? Does he eat Macrobiotically like Gwenyth does? Does he get along with his mother-in-law, Blythe Danner?

And then I got philosophical and started to wonder where Gwen was. I doubted she was in Vegas, not with young children and such unhealthy food. And then I wondered how she was coping with her father (director Bruce Paltrow's) death. Was Chris supportive of her during that tough time? And when Chris practices his music at home, does she dote on him or does she get annoyed like the family of most musicians who can only take so much, no matter how good it is?

Yes, that's literally the ticker tape of babble that went through my head as he played his incredible tunes one after another. It's not to say that I didn't enjoy the show (I did), but I was amazed at how our knowledge of stars' lives rounds out our enjoyment of their work (or takes away from it, as the case may be). Celebrity Watching has become our new national pastime, but at what expense? If people had seen weekly articles of Paul McCartney being "Just Like Us!" would the Beatles have had the longevity they did, or would we have turned our backs on them? (This is a digression because I don't love the Beatles the way everyone else does and frankly don't get the mania, but that's another post for another day.)

At the same time, I can't help but continue absorbing as much pop culture as I can. It's not intentional in all cases, but once I hear it, it sticks. Tonight I blurted out that Laura Dern was dumped by Billy Bob Thornton for Angelina Jolie. So yeah, this whole pop culture knowledge thing-- it may not be a blessing, but if it's a curse it's a darn funny one.

(bonus points if when you read "Laura Dern" your first thought was "Ben Harper's wife")

And the games continue.