Read Online Celebrity Detox: (the fame game) by Rosie O'Donnell - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Rosie O'Donnell
Tags: BIO000000
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time comes for me to do this, I will be graceful and go. Everyone has to go. Going is part of the gig.
And I’m sure it doesn’t come easy for Barbara either. Who am I to say? I can only say what I see, feel what I feel. I feel, sometimes, her tiredness. I would like to tell Bill Geddie about her tiredness. I would like him to feel her fatigue, be in her bones; I’ll bet it hurts there. I’ll bet behind the glam and glitter it hurts to be Barbara, sometimes, because, while you can hide aging, you can’t erase it; it leaves its grainy footprints, its smears. I want to tell Bill Geddie this. I want to remind him that he has worked with her for twenty-five years. His whole entire career is with and for and by her. And does he think with her legacy that it is still in her best interest to do live television? Does he even consider this, or is the profit too pretty? Maybe it’s time for her to take a break. To go off the air, find the ground, sit down. Rest. She deserves that; if anyone does, she does.
The point is, Eddie, it’s hard to be here, to watch this happening.
And I would be less than honest if I were to say that there is no trouble between Barbara and me. I mean, our differences are obvious.
During the commercial, people scream, “I love you, Rosie,” and Barbara tells them in a schoolteacher tone, “It is impolite to say I love you to one person when there are four of us up here.” Then a stony silence sets in. There are many rules I don’t understand.
Once I was visiting Georgette Mosbacher and some fund-raiser guy, also visiting, told me about a new hospital for vets, for amputees from the Iraq war, and how these soldiers were not getting good medical care. And the fund-raiser told me his agency had already raised $5 million for these men, this hospital. “Did any celebrities give?” I asked him. “Yes,” he said. “Cher gave three hundred thousand.”
“I will match Cher’s gift,” I said to him.
Barbara found out about this. I could sense she thought I was crazy or just plain overboard. I must seem all excess to her, even in giving.
Here’s the thing. I believe that people of substantial wealth, wealth of the sort that it appears to me Barbara has, and that I have, are called upon to give substantially. It makes no sense not to. If people as wealthy as celebrities such as Barbara and myself gave away half of our net worth, we would still have plenty left over, and we could actually save millions upon millions of lives. To not do so seems wrong, if not downright sinful.
I’d be a liar if I said I do not stand in judgment of those who disagree. I do. It is small minded. Greedy.
I need to try harder.
What I’ve learned: rich is not as much a fact as a feeling. Because no matter how much money you have, the thought of parting with half of it can seem devastating, when in actual practice it would change your life, your access to resources, not one bit. I try to remember this, and stretch each year just a little farther. If I want to give ten thousand, I ask, “But why not ten hundred thousand?” And indeed, why not? What will change in my life if I do this? Nothing. What will change in the recipient’s life? Everything. Looked at from this point of view, withholding seems cruel.
Barbara I doubt would agree. So, no surprise, we see things very differently, Barbara and I. But the biggest differences aren’t money or clothes or what have you. Bottom line, she’s just not an entertainer. And she shouldn’t have to be. I don’t want to push Barbara to be something she’s not. It’s her show. This is her parade. I’m going at a different tempo. The ratings are up, which pleases her. But from a personal perspective, I think I’ve been very hard for her to handle.
My relationship with Barbara sometimes makes me wonder what it would be like with Mommy now—if we would get along, if we could find our way to friendship, to a mutual respect.
It’s all about sharing, Ed.
Call me
And I’m sure it doesn’t come easy for Barbara either. Who am I to say? I can only say what I see, feel what I feel. I feel, sometimes, her tiredness. I would like to tell Bill Geddie about her tiredness. I would like him to feel her fatigue, be in her bones; I’ll bet it hurts there. I’ll bet behind the glam and glitter it hurts to be Barbara, sometimes, because, while you can hide aging, you can’t erase it; it leaves its grainy footprints, its smears. I want to tell Bill Geddie this. I want to remind him that he has worked with her for twenty-five years. His whole entire career is with and for and by her. And does he think with her legacy that it is still in her best interest to do live television? Does he even consider this, or is the profit too pretty? Maybe it’s time for her to take a break. To go off the air, find the ground, sit down. Rest. She deserves that; if anyone does, she does.
The point is, Eddie, it’s hard to be here, to watch this happening.
And I would be less than honest if I were to say that there is no trouble between Barbara and me. I mean, our differences are obvious.
During the commercial, people scream, “I love you, Rosie,” and Barbara tells them in a schoolteacher tone, “It is impolite to say I love you to one person when there are four of us up here.” Then a stony silence sets in. There are many rules I don’t understand.
Once I was visiting Georgette Mosbacher and some fund-raiser guy, also visiting, told me about a new hospital for vets, for amputees from the Iraq war, and how these soldiers were not getting good medical care. And the fund-raiser told me his agency had already raised $5 million for these men, this hospital. “Did any celebrities give?” I asked him. “Yes,” he said. “Cher gave three hundred thousand.”
“I will match Cher’s gift,” I said to him.
Barbara found out about this. I could sense she thought I was crazy or just plain overboard. I must seem all excess to her, even in giving.
Here’s the thing. I believe that people of substantial wealth, wealth of the sort that it appears to me Barbara has, and that I have, are called upon to give substantially. It makes no sense not to. If people as wealthy as celebrities such as Barbara and myself gave away half of our net worth, we would still have plenty left over, and we could actually save millions upon millions of lives. To not do so seems wrong, if not downright sinful.
I’d be a liar if I said I do not stand in judgment of those who disagree. I do. It is small minded. Greedy.
I need to try harder.
What I’ve learned: rich is not as much a fact as a feeling. Because no matter how much money you have, the thought of parting with half of it can seem devastating, when in actual practice it would change your life, your access to resources, not one bit. I try to remember this, and stretch each year just a little farther. If I want to give ten thousand, I ask, “But why not ten hundred thousand?” And indeed, why not? What will change in my life if I do this? Nothing. What will change in the recipient’s life? Everything. Looked at from this point of view, withholding seems cruel.
Barbara I doubt would agree. So, no surprise, we see things very differently, Barbara and I. But the biggest differences aren’t money or clothes or what have you. Bottom line, she’s just not an entertainer. And she shouldn’t have to be. I don’t want to push Barbara to be something she’s not. It’s her show. This is her parade. I’m going at a different tempo. The ratings are up, which pleases her. But from a personal perspective, I think I’ve been very hard for her to handle.
My relationship with Barbara sometimes makes me wonder what it would be like with Mommy now—if we would get along, if we could find our way to friendship, to a mutual respect.
It’s all about sharing, Ed.
Call me
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