Free You Can’t Drink All Day if You Don’t Start in the Morning by Celia Rivenbark

ain’t the gig it used to be. What, were they all out of Dodge Neons?
    Given her penchant for advice-giving, Gwyneth Paltrow could have counseled the entire Cook-Brinkley family because, to hear her tell it, she understands the human animal, and I am not just talking about David Duchovny. She admits that she has made a few mistakes, but that was all in the past. Now it’s time to share with others what it has taken her a lifetime to learn.
    Like—and I am not making this up—“where to eat when you’re in London.”
    Oh, for shit’s sake, Blondie, most of us are just lucky to get to Six Flags once every five years. London?
    Giving Gwyneth the benefit of the doubt, I will just assume that she got bored with hearing how fabulous her husband was and she’s “acting out” rather than just accepting her position as an in-demand and much-lauded actress.
    Maybe Goop really got its start after someone desperately tried to keep Gwyneth from becoming the next (God rest her soul) Linda McCartney or (egads!) Yoko.
    Chris Martin is insanely talented and the last thing he needs is wifey standing waifishly at stage left shaking a tambourine or insisting on taking the mic during set breaks to deliver a heartfelt plea to save the endangered truffle or whatnot.
    This whole business reminds me that women don’t know how to be rich anymore. I mean nobody except Heather Mills McCartney who, I’m sure, doesn’t cook, unless it is to lightly braise the still-beating heart of a freshly slaughtered baby lamb.
    In their attempt to just be one of us—be it through cooking shows, Web sites, or gluing their regal hands together making dinosaur habitats—they succeed only in pissing us off.
    Billy Joel (see above) trotted out his latest wife a while back to promote her cookbook. The wife of the world’s wealthiest comedian, Jerry Seinfeld, also wrote a cookbook.
    It almost makes me like Heather. Say what you will butHeather Mills McCartney earned her money the old-fashioned way: Marrying a billionaire and then ensuring that his life is so miserable that he’ll pay you $43 million just to leave. Write a cookbook? Oh, hell no.
    I can hear a few of you out there whining a bit as you read this. After all, doesn’t a woman have a right to pursue her own hopes and dreams and talents?
    Right. So the tiny, itsy wittle Ms. Joel demonstrated her awesome cooking talents by making meatloaf on Oprah’s show.
    Yes, meatloaf.
    At the mention of meatloaf, the audience squealed as if she’d started to prepare pheasant de foie gras snootypants.
    “
She’s making meatloaf!!!!
” Oprah bellowed; you know how she does. And then she bellowed it three more times.
    All this is going on and I’m thinking,
Dude, you married Billy F-ing Joel. Fry the guy a steak at least, or make what I’d make if I were married to him. That’s right: reservations.
    From all appearances, Mrs. Billy Joel is utterly charming. Ditto Mrs. Seinfeld. But I’d like ’em a lot better if they just sat up there on Oprah’s couch and said, “You know what? My husband’s worth $800 million. I got no flippin’ idea where the stove is. Ewwww. This sofa’s sorta scratchy, O.”
    I guess celebrity isn’t what it used to be. Jennifer Lopez and Nicole Richie, in separate
People
interviews, recounted tales of sleepless nights and numerous diaper changes.
    Oh, big deal. Celebrities can do poo just like some damnAppalachian Juno. As if. My guess is, Carmelita is the only one changing nappies in those mansions. What’s next? Yard saling with Eva Longoria Parker?
    Acting poor is just so 1995, y’all. At least Gwyneth got that part right. Bless her heart.

11
Jon & Kate Plus 8
Better Without the Kids
    Have you seen
Jon & Kate Plus 8
, the reality TV show about a Pennsylvania couple who are raising one set of twins
and
sextuplets? While I would’ve been tempted to just name them Dopey, Sneezy, Grumpy, et cetera, as they kept popping out, Jon and Kate Gosselin aren’t the frivolous