Why George Clooney's Engagement Matters (To Me)
If you know me at all, you know two things about me:
1) each year on my birthday I change my name to Karen Clooney, I require friends and family to call me Mrs. Clooney, I even change my name on my social media profiles
2) I have made no secret that George and I were destined to be together, we just kept missing each other.
When George was in Gloucester , I wondered just how difficult it would be to get near him. What would the crowds would be like? And how would I charm my way through security so that our paths would 'accidentally' cross? Unfortunately, at the time, I was moving and settling into a new job. The timing wasn't right. I've regretted that decision ever since. Each summer when I return to Gloucester, I head to the little Italian market where his picture hangs to buy a few goodies and stand in the spot he stood. Try as I might, he doesn't seem to feel the karmic vibe I send out asking for his return. Perhaps it's for the best, my kids don't like him.
When I read about his engagement - or, rather, when everyone I knew contacted me to tell me about it (he really has no idea what a big part of my life he is) - I felt a little pang in my stomach. Who cares, right? I don't even know the guy. Having no confirmation from his camp, I decided it was a rumor and let it go. Tonight, I dared to Google him and found that he and his family have, indeed, confirmed that he is engaged. Silly as it sounds, the feeling of sadness surprised me. Why in the world do I care? My pretend relationship was entertaining for me, annoying for my husband and children, and something my friends and fans seemed to enjoy. But it wasn't real. Or was it?
Image: Pascal Poitier © Visual/ZUMAPRESS.com
It doesn't matter who you are, you can always hope that life could be just a little better. That something could be just a little easier. George Clooney represented that to me and to many other women. Lying in bed at night, tired from the day, hoping the kids don't puke and you can get them to school without a fuss, you wonder: what would it be like to have no worries? What would it be like to be married to George Clooney? No worries abut money, no worries about him losing his hair or his looks as he ages... Jetting around the world, living the (seemingly) 'good life'.
George Clooney is a throwback another time.
He's a gentleman in the classic style - modest, humble, preferring to keep his personal business out of the press. He is a philanthropist and has a fabulous sense of humor. He is old school Hollywood.
I love old Hollywood. Doris Day. Rock Hudson. Cary Grant. Grace Kelly. Frank Sinatra. Bing Crosby... I love old Hollywood, therefore, I love George Clooney.
George Clooney was also safe. He was never getting married again, he was a lifetime bachelor. He wasn't going to lead you on, break your heart or tie you down with cooking and cleaning. What you saw was what you got. And if you got some great jewelry out of it, even better! Your life with George would be a breeze. And because he would always be a bachelor, you could count on that silly little delusion for all of eternity. He was the perfect escape. The classic "housewives' fantasy".
Once he gets married, however, all bets are off. The wife just muddies the picture. Having to share George with this other woman just doesn't cut it. The illusion is over. There is no such thing as the easy life anymore and your shallow desires will never come to fruition. You just wasted fourteen years fantasizing about a guy you can't have anymore. (Yeah, I know, I never really had him. I'm trying to make a point!)
On the flip side, you may be tired of laundry, you may think the PS3 was created by the devil to drive parents mad and you may not be above take-out a few times a week, but you are right where you belong. Think about it. Would George let your creepy nephews come over every weekend, sleep on your couch and eat all your food? Would he put up with your dysfunctional family? Would he think you are funny when he is outside mowing the lawn and you are inside pressing your naked boobs against the window just because you can? Would he even *be* outside mowing the lawn? Would he let you eat Funyuns? Or leave the back door unlocked so the neighborhood kids can come and go at will? And would he be at all entertained by the fact that you find yourself funnier than anyone else on the planet?
I really don't know. And you know what? I don't want to find out. I liked the fantasy, it was a great little escape while it lasted and when I needed it. It amused my friends and annoyed my family but, in the end, I think we all end up where we are supposed to be. I am supposed to be here, acting half my age, driving my kids nuts, saying incredibly inappropriate things and not worrying about whether or not I can live in the spotlight.
So my darling, as much as this saddens me, I fear our relationship may have come to an end. Don't worry, I hold out hope that she will dump you, or vice versa. If that happens, I am back on the Clooneymobile! I'll pick up the pieces of your shattered heart. Until then, I will cherish the time we had together and know that if was meant to be, it will be.