On rare occasion, I publicly admit the crush I have on Sarah Jessica Parker. It's well known in my family. I've seen everything she has acted in (more than once), and I dig the kooky way she dresses. Hell, it's a recording of her voice that announces that I have email when I sign on to my server.
My wife enjoys my crush, and even plays along with it from time to time. This isn't only because she feels confident in our relationship...In fact, it's mostly because (1) Parker and I don't run in the same circles, and (2) Mrs. Film Geek's contention that if I did meet Parker in a bar, she wouldn't talk to me.
When I disagree and insist that she would, my wife retorts: "Cool. When you introduce yourself, be sure you tell her you are once-divorced, in your early 40s and have nearly a handful of children. Then, enjoy your whirlwind romance with the movie star."
Disillusionment. It sure sucks.
Which brings me to this article about Christie Brinkley, who is going through divorce number four.
Like many boys I knew, I had posters of Christie Brinkley on my walls during my teen years. (And maybe at least one on my ceiling, if I recall correctly.) I had a huge crush on her, and recall being a bit envious of Billy Joel when they married. She was beautiful, seemed smart and was something of a muse for Joel. Hell, most of his best songs were about her! What more could an artist want outta love?
I can't help but wonder, though, if I would have been less attracted to Brinkley if I had known then (via my obvious psychic powers) that she would marry and divorce so many times. That the muse had a limit, or that she may have baggage that isn't quite so obvious. Like Rush Limbaugh (sorry my neo-con friends, I couldn't resist). And like me, of course. Who knows,...Brinkley and I may share some similarities. (Except that I no longer have super-model legs.) Would knowing her future have made a difference to me at 16?
Nah, probably not.