Linda Edwards Scribbles











“Smile!” they say, “Smile!
You’re on camera!”
“Everyone’s looking!
Smile!”
Don’t let them know
They might not love you.
Don’t let them see
you’re not happy,
perfect,
shiny as a star,
because you’re a
STAR. “Smile!”
But I’m tired.
I’m stressed.
I’m bored.
I’m young.
I’m a STAR.
“You can do anything,
so smile!”
“They all love you!
Smile!”
“They’re all watching!
Smile!”
“Can’t stop a STAR.”
Can’t stop me.
You can’t stop me.
I can’t stop me.
The car won’t stop.
Please,
the screaming won’t stop.
The lights are too bright,
shiny like stars.
I’m a STAR,
Officer.
Don’t they love me?
Officer?
“Face the camera.”
Smile!

We watch child stars struggle to grow in the limelight, so often growing reckless, feckless, mean and even dangerous to themselves and others. We all shake our heads.  No one is surprised anymore.  It’s even coming to be expected.  The little teen idol rises and we KNOW.  I saw the picture going around of the most recent kid who, by all accounts, became one hell of a piece of work.  He’s smiling like it’s any other photo op, but there’s none of the same advantageous light, no make-up, no digital touch up, and still it’s the same smile as in every other shot passed around at any other time.  It’s just another camera.  He’s not a child.  He chooses to behave like a dick, but it’s sad that he somehow came to believe this was all okay.  Boy, does he need help.  I hope he at least comes to realize that before he pulls some really destructive stunt.  Besides, there are more pressing things to worry about in the world.  His issues are irrelevant to any of it.  Maybe we can let him deal with himself in peace?



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