Paris Hilton, If Anybody Cares

Life caught up with the girl who gained fame for being born rich, last week. The queen of the talentless, the clueless and the careless new generation of Hollywood starlets (though I’m not exactly sure why anyone cares) is heading to prison. The Graybar Hotel for the girl whose great grand dad founded the Hilton Hotel. Forty-five days for driving drunk. Good. At least she isn’t dead. At least she didn’t kill anyone else. At least she isn’t diseased — or so we can hope. At least maybe now she won’t get a free pass from her fans (though, I thought to have fans you actually had to do something that they could be fans of — but I digress). So much has been made of the steroids that Barry Bonds may or may not be using, of the gunshots that Pacman Jones may or may not have fired, of what Don Imus may or may not have meant when he said what he said. But not much has been made of Paris Hilton, who apparently is a role model to young girls and teens and even alcoholic college kids. Folks feel sorry for Paris. She, like the city for which she was named, can’t win, they say. Forget Paris.