Celebrity. We tend to think of celebrity as a media-fed feeding frenzy of attention. We may not know why a person is famous or what caused the fame, but we devour every saucy post and article on them. They pitch a product, and even if we don’t rush out to buy it, we at least cautiously open our eyes to it. 

You see it on the grocery store’s shelf within a month and pick it up.

But the attraction to celebrities starts when we are young. It’s a deadly addiction of youth. As a young Folkie drinking beer at the Harvard Gardens, it was Celeste. A particular hush would come over our table when Celeste would enter. With long blond hair, an impressive chest, and long legs, she generated dope slaps throughout the room as wives and girlfriends struggled to regain the attention of their mates. A skinny Wes (that was me) didn’t even merit a passing glance. 

These days we’d automatically understand that some augmentation was involved, but it was a simpler time, and who cared? All we saw Celeste in all her grandeur.

By fall, Celeste was gone, and before wives and girlfriends could relax, long, slender, dark-haired Elaine had all male eyes tracking her entry. She was unattainable and, therefore, all that more interesting. Elaine looked for something specific, and the Harvard Garden bar flies did not qualify.

Now this behavior was not restricted solely to males. The women just were not quite as lewd about it. The all-female tables could track an attractive male to the door with a radar-like precision while dissecting every positive and negative aspect of Tony’s attire, behavior, and physique.

Celebrity lasts a season and can be gone. The parade of males and females gets filed away, and years later, we become curious. Whatever became of them? Magazines, websites, and TV shows have made a regular fare out of this material: tawdry divorces, arrests for drunken driving, drug busts, religious conversions, and comebacks.

For most of us, what became of the Celeste’s, Tony’s, and Elaine’s boil down to Google and Facebook searches. Don’t look innocently at me. Your browser history will give you away. 

So there you sit in front of the screen. Celeste became a celibate religious woman. Elaine is a retired physician living with her three cats. And Tony is an octogenarian weight lifter who sells a line of whey/protein supplements, and as a former friend, you qualify for the “Friends and Family discount.”

All of this leads to a fit of curiosity. Does anyone Google you? Are you Facebook hunted by former inamorata? Might you need to wear dark glasses to your next reunion? Test it out. Next, resume redoing mention that you’ve just come in from the cold and retired from a life of endless public boredom after serving as an undercover DAR operative for thirty years. Or that you’re being repatriated to an undisclosed country, having served as a sleeper agent since high school.

Suppose the retiring espionage routine is not your thing; how about a false Facebook history detailing your years as a childhood star who sought tranquility in ordinary life. Therapy has helped you realize that revealing who you are is critical to recovery.

Contact Lou’s Celebrity Fake Agency for more details on how you can confuse, amaze and provoke those search engine lurkers Looking for ordinary you…only to find the real celebrity that always lurked behind that mild-mannered unpretentious facade.

Call now- operators are waiting. Dial 555-0199.

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