A Word Please...

We all know that I love my celebrity gossip. In fact, one of my favorite gifts this year was a subscription to US Weekly magazine. (Of course, considering my somewhat severe addiction to celebrity gossip websites, I usually know everything in the magazine before it arrives - excepting, obviously, stars and how they're "just like" me, but bygones.) Even if I have all the details on Britney's divorce and Kingston Stefani's hairstyle, I still read it. (I know, I know - between the repetitive play of Lindsay Lohan's shenanigans and soap operas, my brain is well-fed.) And, by most accounts, this Monday was no different from most: I came home from work, I changed into sweat pants, I spent time actually talking out loud to my dog about how my day was, and then I sat down on the couch with my recently-delivered US Weekly. That's when I noticed it. It was right there on the cover, staring up at me. That's when I saw that this particular US Weekly was, in fact, a Collector's Edition. That's right - a collector's edition. A collector's edition of a those-of-us-who-read-it-pretend-it-isn't-but-deep-down-we-all-know-it-really-is-one tabloid. My obvious question is, WHO THE HELL COLLECTS US WEEKLY?!?! Is there someone laminating TomKat's wedding album as we speak? Does it get a special place on the coffee table where it stays - forever? Do you pull it out when people come over for dinner along with slides from that last trip to the Grand Canyon saying, "Now I don't know whether you've seen this before or not...but we've been saving something really special for after dessert"? It's US Weekly people! Everyone has seen it! Anyone can have it! Collector's Edition or not, there's nothing that special about it. I really don't think it will be worth more if they break up, if that's what people are hoping for. I'm pretty sure mainstream copies of celebrity rags don't appreciate in value like baseball cards or discontinued, sexist Barbies. Sure, when my grandmother held a garage sale years ago, her National Enquirers sold out and sold fast, but they went for ten cents a piece. She couldn't exactly retire on rumors. (Hey - do you think that phrase could catch on? Maybe like "living on love"? "Retiring on rumors"? Huh? Ok, I realize it doesn't work and barely makes sense, but I've been dying to slap something on a needlepoint pillow and make my fortune for years. After all, if people like collector's editions of mediocre magazines...) Of course, when I consider that some people amass Precious Moments figurines and clocks shaped like trains from the Time Life corporation, none of this seems that bad, but, as I've said before and will say again, when people are thinking inside "the crazy box," I don't dive in there with them trying to work with their logic. If you're taking "the train to crazy," I'm not hoping on board with you. I'll stay in "reason-ville," and we can have any discussion you want there. Holding on to an US Weekly just because it says "Collector's Edition" on the top is a little bit crazy. I can't help but thinking it's the same mindset that leads to one day far in the future when EMT technicians have to fight their way through a maze of years-old newspapers and empty cans of Le Sueur green peas to find your body. In short, throw it out. Get out of the crazy box. You'll thank me in the long run.