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So The Denver Nugget’s star Carmelo Anthony was busted for drunk driving at 4 in the morning. You don’t have to think about this too long to understand this was an epic display of foolishness:

1. Drunk driving kills people. This is why our society has made it very clear that driving while intoxicated is socially unacceptable. A lot of people will tell you that celebrities always get off easy, which may be true when it comes time to sentencing.

What people don’t realize is that celebrities have a bigger judge outside the courtroom: the public. Millions of opinionated people spit venom on reckless celebrities. And this isn’t just from haters who are happy to drag someone down. There are many people who’ve had a loved one killed by a drunk driver, and they have no compassion for anyone who will swerve through life mowing down innocent lives. That means you, Carmelo.

2. You ignored your civic responsibility. Very few people on this planet are privileged enough to have fans. If you are one of these special people, it is critical that you understand that it’s not about fame and fortune–because these all pass–but more importantly, your role in this society at this point in history.

Professional athletes are the most accessible role models for children, especially young boys. No doubt, there were a lot of little boys who woke up yesterday totally confused by their hero’s behavior. But it’s not just a child’s fleeting disappointment that is really at stake here. These little boys will be the fathers of the next generation (we’ve all scene The Lion King right?) Each of these boys is looking for someone that they want to grow up to be like. If you are lucky enough to be a professional athlete, then it is your civic duty to be a good role model.

3. It’s playoff time, jackass. Let’s say you are so absorbed in basketball to really consider my first two points. Let’s suspend reality for a moment and just consider only how Carmelo’s DWI impacts the game.

Carmelo’s Denver Nuggets barely made the playoffs, and they need every break they can get to make it out of the first round in the highly competitive Western Conference. The entire team is built around Carmelo and depends on his leadership. These men have worked hard to get a chance at an NBA championship. How are Carmelo’s team mates supposed to trust him as a leader on the court when he’s a fool off the court?

Summary: Carmelo, I hope you do some hard thinking in the off-season. If you don’t get your act together, people will only remember you as irresponsible fool.

My multi-part series on The Real World was interrupted by real life:

1. My wife and I found out that we are going to have a daughter. This will add even more sweetness to my house.
2. The family is in town and it was shallow to hide upstairs and write about television.
3. The Suns are in the final games of the season in a very tight Western Conference. I have to watch each game because this is what fans live for. By the way, the Suns spanked the Spurs in San Antonio earlier this week.
4. It’s tax time. I’ve spent several unexciting nights this week organizing my home office trying to get my paperwork in order.

In an comical collision of items 3 and 4, I read this article on The Onion this morning:

Tim Duncan Offers To Do Taxes For Entire Spurs Team

SAN ANTONIO—As the playoffs grow nearer, Spurs center Tim Duncan has taken it on himself to ensure his team is focused, relaxed, and utterly prepared for tax day by offering to complete their state and federal forms himself. “C’mon, guys, just a couple days left in the regular season, and you know what that means—get your W-2s to me as soon as you can, plus records of any memorabilia sales or shoe endorsements you’ve done, and just as important, tell me about any deductible expenses you’ve incurred,” Duncan told him teammates during a time-out with 3:40 left to play in the Spurs’ 72-65 win over the Trailblazers Sunday. “Tony, I bet you put all your receipts in a shoebox again, didn’t you? Manu, tell me if you’ve been sending more than 37 percent of your income overseas, because that’s a whole different set of declaration forms I have to print out. Okay, got it? Break!” Duncan later disclosed to reporters that he paid over $865,000 in late-filing fees for the 2007 Spurs.

I missed the first half of the show last night because Candyce and I were watching The Hills on Tivo. (More about The Hills later.) Once Spencer moved out of Heidi’s apartment and the show was over, I skipped over to MTV to schedule a recording of the Real World thingy at 10 PM, and what do you know? The show is on right now…at 7 PM Pacific time (duh). After feeling stupid for a half second, I pressed record and Candyce snuggled in close for the main event.

Me on the red carpet at The Real World Awards Bash.
“29 and married” is the new “22 and famous.”

Party Like it’s 1999

We filmed the show a few weeks ago in Los Angeles. I had an absolute blast at that night, despite the fact that I was the only cast member who showed up from RW New Orleans. I was really looking forward to seeing everyone again. All day my heart was giddy with the thought of the seven of us being together for the first time in several years. When I got to the party Jonathan Murray, the creator/owner of show, told me I was the only one from my cast who showed up. I was so disappointed.

It was a rush to spend time with casts from the shows that aired before ours…all the people I met at the 10-year reunion. It was also a blast to be re-united with everyone from The Gauntlet too. I talked to a couple folks from that show and we made peace with our past. It was good to hug and makeup.

The show was filmed in a cool modern house perched on a hilltop in the Hollywood Hills. This made for a glamorous backdrop for the show, but it created many problems. First of all, there was no place to park. The homes are packed on top of each other because Real Estate is so premo. And the steep, winding streets that connect these lux homes are very narrow. So if you lived in LA and wanted to show up whenever you wanted to, you had to have a friend drive you there like a soccer mom and drop you off.

I got there in one of several vans full of out-of-towners that were staying at hotels in the area. It was a lot of fun to be in a van for 45 minutes with 10 other kids from different seasons. Although most of us had never met one another, we had a strong connection because we’ve all been through the same dramas that comes with the show.

Flashing Lights

The red carpet experience was amusing. When you see “red carpet” photos, you usually see glamorous people looking glamorous. If you watch some video footage of the passage over the red carpet, you’ll see that person sparkling from the flashes from cameras. I suppose every red carpet has unique circumstances, but of the handful that I’ve been a part of, it’s never been totally glamorous, especially at this event.

You basically have 100+ people trying to make their way from one end of the carpet to the other. Once you’re on the carpet, you’ll have your picture taken, you’ll be interviewed by lots of people with microphones standing next to people with cameras. You don’t hurry because you want the media to get a good look at you so they will talk about you once the event is over. Everyone uses this same playbook, so the line is slower and longer than at the DMV. But nobody really cared. The people who crossed over the carpet were having fun at their party…the people still waiting for their time to shine had their own party 100 feet away. Good times.

What’s Wrong Here?

It’s hard to write about all of this because there’s so much to say. So I’ll just get to the point. The awards categories were ridiculous and humiliating. The word “honor” is no where near any of these categories:

1. Steamiest scene
2. Person you love to hate
3. Best meltdown
4. Best brush with the law
5. Best fight
6. Best phone call gone bad

I’m not surprised that these were the awards categories, because the show has gotten so raunchy over the years. The early seasons were a creative mix of unique individuals placed in a cool house in a cool city. The content of each show slowly evolved until the ratings spiked with the raunchy drama of RW Hawaii (season 8.)

When they chose people for season 9 (my season), they purposely tried to re-created the essence of the earliest seasons. Our ratings were high, but I suppose they weren’t high enough. Every season after us gets more scandalous than the season before.

I don’t blame Bunim-Murray or MTV for letting the show spiral down like it has. They will tell you that they are a business, and this is the stuff that sells. “We give the viewers what they want.” They’ll explain that MTV is a part of Viacom, a publicly traded company whose share holders expect high returns. So who do you blame? Is it MTV? Is it Viacom? Is it the thousands of Dads around the country who own stock in Viacom but won’t let their kids watch RW? Or should you just blame the stupid kids on the show who make stupid decisions?

I don’t believe that nobody is to blame just because it’s a complicated problem. We are all at fault. We’ve allowed public indignity and self-exploitation to pass as entertainment: pornography, Girls Gone Wild, Jackass, cage fighting, and half of the videos on YouTube. The history books will not judge our society kindly.

You don’t have to look far to know that something is not right here. Two people from The Real World are dead. Frankie from RW San Diego died of cystic fibroses. Pedro from RW San Francisco died of AIDS. When it came time to remember and honor these two souls, how could viewers take their deaths with any sincerity? Can one person be entertained by the raunchy drama of RW for the first hour of the show, then pause for three minutes melodramatic mourning, then flip the switch back to gorging your eyes with the footage of the threesome in a hot tub?

Life Goes On

I was inside saying my goodbyes when I stepped up to the window to see that the two hosts standing on stage reading lines off their Teleprompters into the cameras. Except for a handful of kids waiting for their awards, the only people listening to them were from production crew holding cameras and microphones. It was pitiful.

The irony was inescapable. We were invited to this hilltop in Hollywood to be congratulated for our achievements, yet everyone lost interest before the night was over.

The reality is that each person at that party was a fragile soul. We all know what it’s like to be famous and what it’s like to be ordinary again. We know what it’s like to be humiliated and exalted on national television. We know criticism and praise. We know that this big and exciting thing we are apart of us not as big and as exciting used to think. It’s easy to leave the crowning party when you stopped caring years ago.

Life goes on. People get old.

I love my life. I am blessed. I married the girl of my dreams. Later this year we are going to have a baby, the most miraculous promise that’s ever been made to me. I have never been more excited about a new chapter in my life.

The Business of Show Business

I suspect the reunion was labeled an “Awards Bash” because MTV/Bunim-Murray has had a tough time with reunions in the past.

Smart cast members realize after their season has aired that they are in fact famous and now have some negotiating power when MTV calls to film another show. In the year 2000, I rallied our cast from The Real World New Orleans and negotiated for a significantly larger payment for our season’s reunion show. I’m sure I was not the first person to do this, or the last.

To avoid negotiating payments with twenty different seasons, the clever people at MTV/Bunim-Murray by scratching the word “Reunion” and replacing it with “Awards Bash.” Those two words appeal to everyone’s battered egos. You feel privileged to be invited to an awards ceremony, especially when you know that they will be honored for your achievements (even if they are ridiculous achievements like “Biggest B!tch.”)

If you refuse to come to the event, people will perceive you as a sore loser, or even worse–as are entirely forgettable. For most people, these two fears worked in tandem to overcome the temptation to play hardball and ask for more money.

Me? I was too busy play those games, and deep down I don’t think MTV would’ve cared if a all seven members of a season didn’t show up.

I knew it might be the last chance I have to see some of the other kids from The Real World seasons over the years, and I didn’t want to miss that chance.

So You Want to Be a Rockstar

I flew to Los Angeles on Southwest airlines, a low-budget ticket for people who don’t care to travel in style–or in my circumstance–a low-budget ticket that lets MTV save money. There’s no first class section for the privileged. Nobody gets a meal. There isn’t even assigned seating. The irony is that airplane was filled with people donning their best celebrity clothes.

The girls are supertan with a tight low-dipping bust-bearing shirts, a velour tracksuit, and always big sunglasses. The guys wore their designer T-shirts and jeans. These shirts are delicately put together, and have layers of abstract designs near the shoulder. The jeans have excessive stitching on the back pockets, the thighs are splattered with bleach, and finally, three pounds of bedazzle. Hollywood here we come!

If you see one of these people in the ordinary spots of life like the hardware store or at the post office, you might pause to admire their appearance. You might even look twice just to see if this person is somebody famous. It is because they stand in contrast to masses of people around them.

But as the 150 of us from the plane stood around the baggage claim waiting for our luggage, they looked like a bedazzled army gearing up for the Battle of Los Angeles. I wondered how these people felt about one another. I mean, they had to know they’re all dressed the same.

I couldn’t help but absorb the irony of the moment. Eight years ago, I wore the celebrity costume too. With The Real World New Orleans playing around-the-clock on MTV, I passed through airports across the country as a bonafide celebrity. I took pictures with vacationing families. I signed autographs for groups of pretty girls. I waved back to strangers as my car pulled away from the curb.

Now I’m standing at the baggage claim in a simple T-shirt, jeans, and flip flops. Nobody recognized me. I’m just another guy waiting in silence waiting for his suitcase.