Then there's Jimmy Buffett. He's suing Six Flags' twenty theme parks, charging that its 10,000-member "Carrothead Club" for kids who are fans of Bugs Bunny is a copyright infringement. Six Flags rep Wendy Goldberg says: "I'm not sure how the concept of children in foam carrot hats is going to be confused with significantly older Hawaiian shirt-wearing, margarita-swilling Parrotheads. Clearly imitation wasn't what we had in mind!" Must I really choose sides here? Margaritaville or Roller Coasters? Cheeseburger in Paradise or Bugs Bunny?
And now Bruce is back in the news, a year later, accused of backing out of a contract to buy a horse worth $850,000 for his teenage daughter. While not as tawdry as the alleged affair with the widow of a 9/11 widow, it's still a blot on the Boss' otherwise sterling image. I started to grumble about opportunistic litigators who chose the moment of a new album's release to grease their slimy rail, and I'm sure that it was all a simple misunderstanding.
Then it occurred to me: The reason I elevated Buffett and Springsteen to Semi-Major-Demigod status in the first place was because of their connection to the common folk. I suspect this is true for Britney Spears' fans, though I find it hard to imagine. Maybe it's even the case for supporters of Oral Roberts. I don't know, but I do know that if you have as much money as God, your problems are different than mine, and I probably won't relate at the end of the day. Why nobody just wrote a check for the horse, or why Carrotheads and Parrotheads can't live in peace is beyond me. Will I be burning my Hawaiian shirts or giving away my tickets to the E Street Band show anytime soon? Nope. And that's showbiz.