September 5, 2007


They Named the Kid What?

I have veered around the whole Anna Nicole Smith trainwreck from the beginning. Not from any overriding integrity, just from boredom. The classic tale of small-town-girl-gets-implants-and-makes-odd (if not really good) just had no traction with me.

Marilyn did it first, did it better, and all the other pretenders to the throne should just go play somewhere else. ANS only hit the radar when she died. And the sad, sorry truth is that when famous people play out their hand in exactly the way we always thought they would (dead of drugs or booze or carwrecked), the anticlimactic shrug that follows just makes you want to fold up your lawn chair and go home.

I will say, the only remotely interesting thing on these occasions is watching how others conduct themselves. For that factor alone, ANS has set the bar high. Her loathesome mother duking it out for custody of her granddaughter, and the two 'men' in her life getting up every day and putting on their best 'pretend you loved Anna' face.

There's a new book out shortly that accuses these two of milking the public with a conspiracy. Doesn't someone have to care for a conspiracy to work?

That lawyer guy doesn't look like he's had relations with anyone, either Anna or the baby's father (as the book claims) since he lost his virginity to his elderly piano teacher in senior year. HIs paternity claim was a hoot. As for that Birkenhead/stock whatever guy, he probably impregnated ANS when she rolled over on him in a drunken stupor one night. I think he was a room service guy setting up a tray of danishes and quaaludes for her, and now he's sold his life to one of those lame, lame TV entertainment shows who insist we need to know all about an infant who has already surpassed her mother in personality. By her first birthday.

The child is actually probably being raised backstage by keygrips and line producers at the TV show. At least I hope she is - it's her only chance.

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