This Saturday morning, I woke up around 11 and walked down to the deli to get coffee. It was a beautiful day, sunny, not too warm or chilly. People were walking dogs and pushing their offspring around in those ridiculous streamlined strollers that look sleeker than the space shuttle (the babies, however, really ruin the aerodynamics). In short: Nothing was happening. Then I saw the cover of the New York Post. In case you were wondering, this is what a slow news day looks like in New York:
That top picture, which incorrectly identifies the two as "celebs," shows Axl Rose (of Guns 'n Roses and, more recently, red cornrows fame) and Tommy Hilfiger (you know, the guy who makes those pseudo-Ralph-Lauren shirts and that perfume that smells like Beyonce) mid "brawl" at Rosario Dawson's birthday party on Friday. What? Yes. You can (and should) read the whole article
here, but this is my favorite part:
Kid Rock, wearing a black-brimmed hat and smoking a cigar, took his fellow rocker's side, and explained that Hilfiger was upset because he is way further down on the fame food chain.
The hierarchy, according to Kid Rock, begins with mere mortals and works its way up to sports stars.
"After that it's movie stars, then rock stars, then Michael Jordan." Hilfiger is somewhere between a mere mortal and a sports star in this ranking.
Note that Kid Rock didn't say where he himself is in the Celebrity Fame Pyramid, because 35-year-old "rock-rappers" that still go by the name "Kid" and who make sex tapes with the guy from Creed, are clearly relegated to a pyramid all their own, mainly because no one would want to stand under, above, next to, or near them. Surprisingly, the article only contains two Guns N' Roses references re-worked into bad puns ("Hilfiger really showed his 'Appetite For Destruction,'" and "Hilfiger introduced Rose to some 'November Pain'"), but nonetheless it was the perfect way to start off a weekend.