Once upon a time in America, in the early 20^th Century, there was no dearth of people we held to be worthy of our acclaim. There were a scant few truly exceptional people who - through their artistic, athletic or intellectual skills - were held above (and by) the mob for their gifts. Their names still conjure (at least to the few that remain aware of their gifts) visions of exceptionalism - Teddy Roosevelt, Mark Twain, Will Rogers, Jesse Owens, Joe Louis, Babe Ruth, Caruso, Louis Armstrong, Charles Lindbergh, Clark Gable, Lawrence Olivier, Brando (first name unnecessary), and the other few "giants" of the age. These were our heroes, our celebrities. Their credentials were impeccable: not just a single performance or a year or two of grand eloquence but a lifetime of sustained, extraordinary excellence.

In our contemporary age, the bar that separates us from "them" (and we never begrudged that there was such a bar) has been remarkably reoriented. Why this has occurred remains the subject of much debate. However, I am lately convinced that the main reason is that we have simply altered its height. We have sacrificed legitimate and sustained superiority for outlandishness and sheer outrageousness. One instance of the bizarre, the freakish and the eccentric or, in fine, simply immoral seems to be sufficient to capture our attention and, hence, warrants our new version of "fame."

It is characteristic in this age of "leveling" - a time when we are all more egalitarian and tamped down by an overbearing government and its social engineers that proclaims "Liberté! égalité! fraternité!" - that it has become exceedingly easy to poke one’s head above the mob and, for a brief shining moment - actually be seen by the crowd. The leap is not so high that even the ordinary and mundane can be parlayed into the new version of "fame."

One only needs to look at any of the countless "celebrity" magazines, internet sites (consider TMZ as Exhibit A) or cable channels, desperate to fill print space or broadcast minutes, to see what constitutes fame in the 21^st Century. The celebrity de jour may be a 8^th place finisher on a "reality show" (perhaps, the most mindless oxymoron ever to reach the pages of Webster’s New World Dictionary) or someone who did some asinine stunt and found a enough distracted and (apparently) bored viewers on YouTube, MySpace or Facebook to find a deep enough fissure in the national consciousness to achieve awareness. This is inevitably followed by the newly minted "celebrity’s" appearance on a few red carpets and, perhaps, as a presenter at the MTV, People’s Choice or Nickelodeon Award shows. A biography - ghostwritten, of course - arrives on the shelves in a suspiciously timely fashion.

After a few weeks (or months, if a good publicist will take them on), the clamor begins to die away. This occurs, usually, almost as quickly as the rise to "fame" happened. Appearances on MTV and VH1 are replaced by guest spots on "I’ll Bet You Will", "Jackass" or as a judge on "America’s Top Chef." As the spotlight further dims, there is always "The Surreal Life" for the "has-beens" and, even, the "never-weres". If, perchance, you gain a few pounds on the set, there might be a "Celebrity Fit Club" spot for you. After all, used-up celebrities are like vampires: they never die. At least, as long as satellite TV outlets keep adding more channels.

The point of this diatribe is simply this: as the nation moves ever closer toward a classless and thoroughly leveled society (whether we really want it or not), the new fame will become an

increasingly important quest for those dissatisfied (and most will be or already are) with their station in life. The human animal inherently seeks recognition and the esteem of his species, a trait thoroughly unique to Homo sapiens in the whole of the animal kingdom. When the species is denied this basic need by progressively oppressive social engineering and, adding the inevitable dissatisfaction with one’s life that comes with a loss of class distinction, the critical nexus (primal need vis-a-vis frustration with life) will elicit more and more desperate grabs at the illusionary brass ring. As this occurs, the quality of entertainment and, coincidently, our personal esteem, will unceasingly plummet. But, this last logical leap is, after all, just my opinion.

When a society can gain sufficient sustenance from radishes, why is there any need to provide filet mignons? Since those who provide our "entertainment" are in business to make money, they will provide the least expensive product with which they can get by. The margins between production costs for pabulum versus a seven-course banquet are significant. If the consumer can be convinced (with slick, often provocative advertising and the promise of titillation) that pablum is what they really want, why spend advertising revenue on a more nutritious repast? The trend is to keep the difference and call yourself a "programming genius". After all, the American consumers are easy enough to entertain. H.L. Mencken was prophetic when he remarked: "No one ever went broke underestimating the intelligence of the American people." [For those who might get the humor, Mencken, ever the wacky curmudgeon, when confronted by an vocal opponent of the theory of evolution, cogently remarked: "It is even harder for the average ape to believe that he has descended from man".]

To complete my already shaky logic, I submit that there is a connection with what we are willing to occupy our minds (even unconsciously, evidently the preferred way most watch the contemporary broadcast media) and the expectations we hold for our own lives. If we are content with a parade of self-debasing, witless and undignified humanity totally devoid of self-respect and, concurrently, raise them above the masses as "celebrities," what might we be satisfied with in our lives? Will we be satisfied with a never-ending pursuit of illegitimate praise or we will settle for the silent state of personal excellence?

The choice is clear if one would spend a few moments in contemplation. The best most who pursue the accolades of the mob can hope for is the bottle rocket, pseudo-fame of the current crop of "celebrities." For a great many, that is quite enough. Twelve or 24 months of recognition from the rabble will last the most vain among us a lifetime. Even when the spotlight is doused (as it always is), these few, these happy few, will always have their video clips to view and review. Forget the fact that their lives, qualitatively, are no better (and, more likely, worse) than before. Memories - at least, when embossed on video - can adequately sustain shallow lives and fulfill many modest dreams.

The harder choice is self-satisfaction. It is not easy for most to abandon the illusions of adoring crowds or the imagined sound of applause. But, for we mere mortals, self-contentment is a far more gratifying avocation. And, along the path to pleasing only ourselves, we will gain much. We just might unlock a talent we did not know existed. Even if we don’t write "The Great American Novel" or compose a beautiful symphony or build the best whatever, we will fill our own souls with a sense of having accomplished something important: our very best effort. That, gentle reader, is a palpable, worthy and tangible gift to ourselves.

The alternative, at least for clear-thinking people, is to seek approval from a distracted, benumbed American public that, while easy enough to entertain with absurdity, has a critically short attention span. Most cannot realistically dream of the applause of those who spend endless hours pondering who will win the current incarnation of "American Idol" or "Survivor". That said, those who chose the harder path have but one person to satisfy: our self.

So, the next time you watch some minion to public adoration sacrifice their marriage for a cash prize or win a bet by eating 100 maggots for the camera or simply make a complete fool of themselves in unimaginable ways for the rapt viewing public and think to yourself: "Hey! I could do that!", always remember: "Monkey see, monkey do" does not apply solely to lower primates.