Early Friday afternoon, my phone buzzed and chirped.
It was a news alert. I’ve signed up for one of those text-alert services, telling me when the market shivers or when someone wins Wimbledon or the Stanley Cup.
Or when there’s more trivia about Michael Jackson.
That was the case Friday. They found some prescription drug at his house. Not in his system, mind you, but in his house. Not exactly a smoking gun, is it?
Like most people, I’m annoyed at being unable to click through the channels quickly enough to outrun the tedious speculation about the self-proclaimed king of pop. I can hear people saying, “Can’t they talk about something else?”
They don’t for a good reason. This is exactly what a substantial number of people want. Probably nowhere near a majority of people, but a sizable number. In other words, a market.
And that’s how it works. It’s a market-based society, and that includes the news media. It’s not going to change anytime soon, and, for the record, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Free markets are our golden goose. They’re not perfect, but consider the alternatives.
We went through this with OJ and Diana and the Lindbergh baby. We’d have done the same with Cleopatra and Julius Caesar 2,000 years ago if we’d had printing presses, videocameras and Twitter. Instead, we leave it to Hollywood to reimagine it for us.
We’ll go through it all again, soon enough, with the next celebrity. We’ll complain about it, but we’ll be the cause, at least indirectly.
My theory has always been that everyone has a soap opera. For some, it’s “General Hospital” or “CSI.” For others, it’s which celeb is sleeping with which other celeb or when the swallows will return to Capistrano. Mine own include “Mark Trail,” the hapless Royals and the first season of “Ice Road Truckers.” (By season two, I was so over it.) I have, by the way, been informed by my teenage son that I am boring.
My wife likes those “Flip This Old Get Me Out of This Celebrity House” shows, and I just don’t get it. I’d rather mow the yard than watch someone landscape a yard. Those competitive cooking and competitive eating shows also leave me cold, but show me a twist on fettuccine alfredo or explain the physics of the common pancake, and I’ll sit and watch.
In other words, the market – even in the governmentally rigged monopoly of cable TV – is trying to cater to my whims and yours too. No, it’s not bold or very imaginative, and it’s not broadening too many horizons, but it’s doing what we tell it. This is why an “Ice Age” sequel and a “Transformers” sequel – instead of something original – are the top two movies this week.
But what about the intensity of all this celebrity coverage? The tabloids pay all that money to the assistant technician at the hospital who leaks the all-revealing blood test or X-ray. Isn’t that over the top?
Of course it is. If people cared as much about politics or government or opera, we might have such in-depth coverage on those things. I’m sure we’d all be better for it, but no one ever got rich reminding people to eat their veggies.
