The TMZ Theocracy: "Why?... 'Cuz I've Got Nice Titties!" Part 4
Luciano Pavarotti was a typical, flawed genius. Definitely not as flawed as his fellow musical genius Michael Jackson, but not so far away on the personal critical flaw scale. When dealing with his art, he was a savant: Just toss in a DVD of the original Three Tenors at Caracalla and see how his voice is a supercharged Ferrari next to Placido Domingo's Cadillac De Ville, and Jose Carreras' skateboard.
His overwhelming flaw was his appetite, both culinary and sexual. He could not stop eating himself into an early grave and leaving a phenomenal decades long marriage for a secretary who was nearly young enough to be his grand-daughter. That combined with his typical Italian reticence to pay taxes created entire conflagrations of stresses that were wholly unnecessary and drained him prematurely.
He could have still been with us had he not burned the candle on every end. Regardless, he was still a God among all Tenors. One of the best memories I have of Luciano was when I tried to coach him on his Neapolitan dialect when singing standards such as Paese Do Sole and O Sole Mio, but his typically Tuscan lilt simply forbade him to softly roll his r's and de-emphasize his m's in that typically Neapolitan-French cadence.
Meat Loaf is not a brainiac, a light speed comedian, or even blessed with metaphysical singing talent. Meat is just a great guy. He's the kind of guy you run into in a bar and then end up being lifelong best friends with. If I have known any one "celeb" who is completely untouched by fame in any way, it has to be Meat. In another world in another life, Meat would have been a youth pastor or a junior high football coach, the type of guy that everybody in a small town looks up to. Luv ya, Meat! You're far and above the leader in the "Nicest Celeb Of All Time Sweepstakes"!
I can just reminisce to fill up several more Hubs about Bryan Adams' "close to Meat niceness"; Federico Fellini's profound grasp of the human subconscious, the perversions within, and how it pervaded his entire life: not just his films; and Doug Henning's magic genius leads me to wonder why he didn't outdo David Copperfield, even before his tragic death to cancer in 2000. I can go on and on. But it's time to turn to the celebs I have known that make Lindsay Lohan look like Nobel Prize Winners. By far the worse in the Hal Celeb Hall of Shame are:
- Dan Aykroyd
- Daryl Hannah
- Jean-Claude Van Damme
- Michael Parks
- The Fat Boys
We're not talking Meat-niceness here. Three of the five are fairly nice entities: It's just that they share the IQ of your average boulder. Dan is a well meaning but hapless bozo, Daryl invented the blonde moment and lives her life in it, and The Fat Boys are great guys who just happen to belong back in some inner city's back alleys as ankle-biter small time gang wannabes. As for Muscles From Brussels, not an overall bad guy, but just one with the reliability of a hand grenade with the pin pulled. I still have nightmares about running around to half the publishers in L.A. begging them to pull the ad we produced featuring Jean-Claude when he unilaterally pulled out of a fully legitimate contract for no real reason.
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