Dear Lindsay and Friends,
It’s got to be incredibly tough for you to deal with ruthless Paparazzi every single day. You can’t shop, dine, cruise around the mall, walk along the beach, see a movie, go bowling, skiing, skating or anywhere out in public without being swarmed, provoked and trailed. Sort of like being a tender thigh pursued by blood-hungry mosquitoes on a humid summer evening. Only these slime balls are huge. They shoot and shoot and shoot at you with their Canons, and chase you in their tank-like SUVs. Respectful people from all over understand your outrage.
It makes sense that your getaway in a six hundred plus horsepower Mercedes would be fraught with peril. Especially on busy local roads where beat-up vans are doing u-turns in the middle of the block. Thank goodness you and your pal were all right. Lucky for you there was an antique store nearby for refuge. There’s nothing like an antique store for protection and solace.
So my young starlets, how do you deal with this horrible menace? What can be done? Maybe it’s those years of experience that you don’t quite have just yet. Or perhaps it’s simply your joie de vivre, that carefree and adventurous spirit of youth, feeling on top of the world, ready to take on new challenges. You step out on the town with your buds and the next thing you know the nightmare begins. Again.
Being a beautiful and enormously talented younger woman, it probably won’t work to take the Jack Nicholson approach. You know, the ‘old boys club’ routine, pulling out a bottle of nice scotch, telling novel off-color jokes, posing for pictures. Not that it’s effective for Jack all the time either, like when he’s running late. But it begins to shed some light on your dilemma.
Some analysis of their motivation is required. Not that you haven’t followed this train of thought. But whatever you’re doing it doesn’t appear to be working too well. And just because such sleazy behavior is quite despicable and possibly illegal, just because you have the same right to privacy and freedom that everyone else has, ignoring it isn’t doing the trick, is it? So you’ve got to take action.
These Paparazzi are making such good money for those special photos of you, not to mention when they catch you off guard or get you stirred up. While the scum who pay for the pictures are even more responsible, none of them are really accountable. Therefore, a two-pronged approach is recommended.
First of all, flood the market with your picture. Do photo sessions every week, in a myriad of appealing poses. Give the snapshots to connected people you know through friends and associates who can sell them to the tabloids. Find a good charity for the profits. Buy some nice cameras for your friends, and have fun with them! Digital cameras are way cool because you can keep on clicking, delete what you hate, and throw in a new memory card when you run out of space. When you go out, snap away at each other, strangers, the restaurant help, the sales clerk, hell, even the dreaded paparazzi themselves. And if you cannot get those pictures sold, just give them away.
Secondly, let those creative juices flow, and come up with some live street performance art. If this isn’t clear, spend more time with the people your age in Manhattan. Should you prefer, work out a Broadway dance number. Something from Disney could be up your alley. Despite your less than stellar success in the music industry, do some singing, some dancing, some clowning around, even mime. Get over yourself and be that entertainer. After you work out some scenes with a variety of friends, most of whom you will be with in different combinations when going out on the town, put on a spontaneous show for the paparazzi (who are sure to appear.) Do it for them every time you can. Mix it up, but not too much. Believe me, after they see the same act a dozen times, and they can’t get more than five bucks for your picture, they’ll go away.
Oh, and when they do, could you send me one of those photos of you and the crew?