The Gateway Drug

I’ve been warned all along. We all have. Everyone always tells you—the first one’s free. But once you reach out and take it, the taste is so sweet you’ll be back for more. And then the claws of addiction wrap themselves around your soul and you’re hooked. Well, my first one wasn’t free. It was $3.99 in the express lane at Publix Super Market.

It all started last week when I was listening to Jenn Hobby’s Entertainment Buzz on The Bert Show here in Atlanta. She (or someone filling in for her) mentioned that Jake Gyllenhaal and Taylor Swift were dating. Say whaaa? Not that I have any vested interest in the amorous affairs of either of these two folks, but I’m a fan of Gyllenhaal’s and a quasi-fan of Swift’s. In my mind they were worlds apart. He in his thirties, appropriately matched with Reese Witherspoon, a divorced mom of two. She barely out of her teens, appropriately matched with Joe Jonas and Taylor Lautner—teen heartthrobs right off the cover of Tiger Beat. Should I be grossed out?

Ordinarily, I don’t pay much attention to celebrity gossip. I love to watch Fashion Police on E! and might occasionally catch something else on the channel, but that’s about it. Any other celebrity news generally comes my way through Twitter, Facebook or The Bert Show. But last night, I was leaving a party and decided to stop at the Pub. I’m in the express lane checking out with my Coke Zero and my Cheetos when I see the cover of US Weekly. It features Jake Gyllenhaal and Taylor Swift casually draped on one another’s shoulders smiling so attractively and so affectionately. Who could be mad at that? So I did it. I bought my first celebrity gossip mag.

It was actually kind of a milestone for me. I’m usually the one rolling my eyes over the stupidity of the punny headlines. I’m feeling sorry for the kids being stalked by paparazzi. I’m annoyed by crass assumptions and blatant lies about people’s lives and relationships. And yet here I was, plunking down a good chunk of change for the thing I used to disdain.

Oh, I’ve seen them before, I ain’t gonna lie. I’ve perused them in doctor’s waiting rooms, dentist’s offices, beauty salons and even pored over them while hanging out with friends. But I’d never bought one. I’d never taken one home and proceeded to lie in bed on a Sunday morning glued to its glossy pages, feeling those claws of addiction drive their way into my soul with each turn of the page.

I of course started with the article on Taylor and Jake. It was cutesy. And he’s not as old as I thought. He’s just 29. And she’s about to turn 21. No gross-out factor there. No problem at all, as a matter of fact. So even though my crappy love life is in need of CPR, I can feel free to be happy for theirs. As soon as I turned the last page of that article, I found out that Kim Kardashian is dating Halle Berry’s ex, Gabriel Aubry, but all is well because Halle is now with actor Olivier Martinez who is SUPER-fine. I learned all kinds of hyper-valuable information such as the fact that Justin Bieber has changed his hair, Martha Stewart likes rap (especially Eminem), and Jennifer Aniston and Chelsea Handler are good friends. I used to spend my free time poring over The Economist, checking political blogs, reading heady novels. All this time, I've been wasting all that energy actually trying to understand the real world. What was I thinking?

Anybody know how Russell Brand did on his driver’s test?