During the recent and overly publicized breakdown of ÂCharlie Sheen, I was repeatedly contacted by the media and asked to comment, as it was assumed that I know a thing or two about starring on a sitcom, fighting with producers, nasty divorces, public meltdowns, and bombing through a live comedy tour. I have, however, never smoked crack or taken too many drugs, unless you count alcohol as a drug (I donâ€™t). But I do know what itâ€™s like to be seized by bipolar thoughts that make one spout wise about Tiger Blood and brag about winning when one is actually losing.
Itâ€™s hard to tell whether one is winning or, in fact, losing once one starts to think of oneself as a commodity, or a product, or a character, or a voice for the downtrodden. Itâ€™s called losing perspective. Fameâ€™s a bitch. Itâ€™s hard to handle and drives you nuts. Yes, itâ€™s true that your sense of entitlement grows exponentially with every perk until it becomes too stupendous a weight to walk around under, but itâ€™s a cutthroat business, show, and without the perks, plain olâ€™ fame and fortune just ainâ€™t worth the trouble.