Diamonds, Engagement Rings & Diamond Jewelry in popular culture

Or not. Having been notified by my mother that Bristol Palin would appear on Dancing with the Stars in the show’s new season, I can’t say I was surprised.  The Palin family is hard-pressed to find any other new and exciting ways to embarrass themselves.  Indian Engagement Ring Giver Levi Johnston is all set to star in his own reality show that will follow his dignified campaign to follow in the practical footsteps of his twice-ex-fiancee’s mother as mayor of Wasilla, Alaska.  Why should he be the only one to ride the reality TV cash cow to fame, fortune, and a lifetime of shame and ridicule?  I guess those speaking engagements about the benefits of pre-marital abstinence aren’t going so well for the 20 year-old single mother of a Republican politician, and a girl’s gotta pay the bills, right?

Class Like This Can Only Be Found on DWTS

Bristol has vowed that she will maintain her dignity on the show (if that’s even possible) by forgoing the standard tight, sequin-y costumes that are a standard on the show.  Watching her dance in floor-length wool skirts, flannel shirts and hiking boots has the potential to draw a whole new audience to the show: the Amish and Hasids.  Mazal tov.  Backing Bristol up on this vow is fellow contestant David Hasselhoff, who appears to have developed some modesty—and perhaps some extra drunken hamburger-induced tonnage—since his Baywatch days.  The actor/singer told the UK’s Press Association that, “You won’t see me in spandex because that reveals too much of The Hoff.”  One can only assume that “The Hoff” is his pet name for the same junk he took such pleasure in jiggling all over the screen while he ran to rescue struggling swimmers all those years ago.

We can imagine that one contestant will be more than happy to reveal as much skin as possible while two-stepping with partner Karina Smirnoff, for whom one can only feel sympathy.  Mike “The Situation” Sorrentino, who has apparently run out of non-choosy women on Jersey Shore, has decided that a turn on another reality show can’t hurt his reputation.  Everyone already knows he’s a dirtbag.  I hope Karina is prepared for as much shirtlessness as the show will bear, and that she can find a way to incorporate latex gloves into her costume choices.  Or a Haz-Mat suit.

Another pit of vacuity will be joining the cast.  After a failed acting career, Audrina Patridge of another MTV show, The Hills, has decided to give dancing on a national stage before resorting to a pole at some “gentlemen’s club” in Hollywood.  She will likely spend most of her time fighting off the less-than-subtle advances of The Situation.  Best of luck to both of them.

Rounding out the show are some people who might be fun to watch.  Can Florence Henderson dance at her age?  Will she charm us like Chloris Leachman did?  Athletes Kurt Warner and Rick Fox of the NFL and NBA, respectively, will show their moves, as will Michael Bolton, the unrecognizable Jennifer Grey, Comedian Margaret Cho, Singer Brandy, and whoever Kyle Massey is.

Truly great television is possible this season, if only The Situation finds himself willing to take on another grenade and put some moves on Bristol Palin.  THAT is must-see TV.

Emmitt Smith is one of the most lovable winners in NFL history.  He reigned supreme during the 90s heyday of the Dallas Cowboys, and maintained his dignity even during his stint on Dancing with the Stars.  He has three enormous diamond-encrusted Superbowl rings, holds the NFL record for career rushing yards and surpassed all running backs with 164 career rushing touchdowns.  In short, he was awesome.  Awesome like the Grand Canyon.  He is someone to be in awe of.

Unless you are from the University of Florida.

"Sorry, Gator Nation. Just don't make me eat that Cheese Thing."

When Smith was inducted into the NFL Hall of Fame Saturday night, he made an epic 21-minute speech.  He thanked everyone from his high school coach to Jesus.  He made special mention to Troy Aikman, Michael Irvin, and Daryl Johnston, all of whom he asked to stand to accept his thanks.  He went on to list 17 offensive linemen who kept him safe on the field.  He requested that they each stand as he called out their names.  He also stated that his cousins Morris, Jerome, Edward, Tim, and Jeffrey were instrumental in helping to shape him into the player he became.  But, of course, he was mostly thankful to Jesus, even though there is no record of The Savior ever throwing him a touchdown pass or blocking for him.

So the fans of the Gator Nation were suitably miffed when Emmitt Smith forgot to mention his college years altogether.  In 2006, the University of Florida inducted him into the Gator Ring of Honor and gave him the title of “Gator Great”, all of which is a very big deal.  Gator football is more important to lots of people than their own families are.  Gator fans are essentially Yankees fans with deep tans.  They’d sooner kill a man than give up their seats to a game.  College football is big business to those folks.  And the man they had made a point of honoring just sorta forgot them.  Certainly, many cans of Bud Light were thrown against many Floridian walls on Saturday night.

That sweet, sweet man made a big, big boo-boo.

By the time he realized his mistake, the Twitter-verse was buzzing about the Gator Nation being snubbed.  And Smith was contrite, taking to Twitter himself to apologize in 140 characters or less.  “I sincerely sincerely apologize,” he tweeted, “for not mentioning u in my hof speech Gator Nation.”  He also went on NBC Sports Sunday Night to give a shout-out to Urban Meyer, Jeremy Foley, the University of Florida, and the entire Gator Nation.  He redeemed himself.  Al Michaels accepted his apology on behalf of everyone who was busy tearing down posters and burning jerseys.

Emmitt Smith is not the kind of man that anyone can really stay mad at.  He’s 5 feet, 9 inches of cuddliness.  But if he truly wants to show his remorse, he should maybe go on another halftime show in a Gators jersey and eat that new heart attack on toast, the Denny’s Fried Cheese Melt.  That thing got as much press as the Hall-of-Famer did.

Strange world.

It’s a name we could have gone a lifetime without knowing.  Levi Johnston could easily be just some Alaskan redneck with a mullet drinking PBR tallboys with the guys and discussing his latest conquests.  No such luck.  Because of those powerful, icy swimmers of his, he became better known—and more respected—than the woman who forced him to put an engagement ring on her pregnant daughter’s finger.  While his 15 minutes were supposed to be over after his spread in Playgirl, he has managed to stretch it out more than two fat kids wrestling over a Snickers.  Not only does he still intend to run for mayor of Wasilla, Alaska, but he intends to do so in his very own reality TV show.

Helloooooooo, Mr. Mayor!

He’s no longer planning to marry Bristol Palin, as we all know.  Their second engagement was cut off when news broke that he may have impregnated another young Wasilla girl.  Bristol was also apparently miffed when he co-starred in a music video lampooning the famous family he was once to be a part of.  Whatever.  He and the people who clearly think for him realized that he is one of Alaska’s untapped resources: pliable stupidity.  He’ll do anything that his agents tell him to.  And there’s no shame in being ridiculed for everything he does.  He still gets chicks, and has shown that he can procreate with the best of ‘em.

His talents are to next be showcased in a show called Loving Levi: The Road to The Mayor’s Office.  While the double-entendre no doubt went over his head, it is just clever enough to get people to watch, provided that the as-yet unscripted show is picked up by a network.  The 20 year-old’s manager, Tank Jones (not kidding), has confirmed the reports that Levi is serious about running for office because he sees that there are serious political issues that need to be addressed in his hometown.  He goes on to reassure us that, “This is not a spoof.  This is not a joke.”

The truth is, Levi hardly finds himself with a tough act to follow.  How much worse can he possibly be than his babymomma’s momma?

Levi has made sure to be seen over the last few weeks.  He appeared at the Teen Choice Awards Sunday on the arm of Brittani Senser, the singer who hired him to appear in her music video.  He was at the same awards show last year, but escorted Kathy Griffin.  It was perfect exposure for a young man who hopes to lead a small town into the big time.  Tank Jones has said that Levi was very serious about his mayoral bid, with or without television cameras following his every move.  Whatever.

Either way, it seems that, at this time, Levi Johnston has a more promising political future than Sarah Palin.  Somewhere in Alaska right now, a woman is loading her shotgun and preparing to shoot some defenseless animals.

Disgraced former Liberian President Charles Taylor finally found the one thing that Naomi Campbell can hold on to.   The once model/current egomaniac was called as a witness in the everlasting trial against Taylor, who is currently being prosecuted in The Hague on 11 vile counts: 5 counts of War Crimes, 5 counts of Crimes against Humanity, and 1 count of Serious Violation of International Law.  In short, he is a bad, bad man.  The trial has not in any way curtailed his love of the ladies, despite his ongoing marriage to the most deluded woman on earth.

Next time, Naomi, buy your own diamonds and keep your mouth shut.

While in South Africa in 1997, Naomi Campbell and Mia Farrow were at a dinner hosted by Nelson Mandela.  For some reason, Charles Taylor was there.  Because he was a man with a lot of power and all the money than he could possibly collect from the enslavement of his own people, Campbell flirted with him.  According to the model’s former agent, Taylor promised to send some men to give her diamonds.  The next morning, over a delicious breakfast, Campbell told Farrow that during the night, two men presented her with a “huge diamond”.

Naturally, when Taylor was arrested for murder, terrorizing civilians, mutilating and beating, sexual slavery, use of child soldiers, etc., Campbell changed her story.  She had no interest in participating in the trial of the man who has come to stand for all that is heinous and evil in the trade of blood diamonds.  But the woman is no stranger to subpoenas, and knew she would have to testify.  And what was she to do?  The truth was absolutely out of the question.  While on the stand, she said that she was awakened in the middle of the night and presented with some “dirty-looking stones”.  She claimed not to know who sent them, or that they were even diamonds.

When Mia Farrow was called to the stand, however, she told a different story.  She said that Campbell had excitedly told her that she had received a huge diamond, and that the men who brought it let her know that it was a gift from Charles Taylor.  It’s just the kind of thing that Naomi Campbell would brag about over her morning coffee.  The details were fuzzy, however, as Campbell, it turns out, was lying to her friend.  She had, in fact, received diamonds, but there were a few and they were uncut stones.  The men told her that they were diamonds, but the supermodel, undoubtedly horrified that they were not of the sparkly, beautifully-cut variety, donated them to the Nelson Mandela Children’s Fund.

While in The Hague, she lamented that, “I just want to get this over with and get on with my life.  This is a big inconvenience for me”.  That poor thing.  How she must have suffered, being flown in to testify against a man who made his fortune from the subjugation and torture of his own people.  The whole ‘doing the right thing’ aspect of taking the stand eluded her.

This incident is so minor in the trial that it really doesn’t even bear repeating, except that Naomi Campbell was once famous for being beautiful, and is now famous for throwing things at people.  And it did get her back into the spotlight.  Good for you, Naomi.  Now we like you even less.

In a time when we hear so many things about love gone wrong, celebrity divorces, ugly custody battles, and flagrant infidelity, it is heartwarming to know that there are still some true romantics out there.  Such is the story of one Franklin Barndt, who showed all of us that nothing, not even inevitable jail time, was to keep him from marrying Takesha Piazza.  Last December, Franklin was in his home in Easton, Pennsylvania, when the police busted in and caught him with 20 grams of crack cocaine.  He was arrested and charged with intent to distribute.  On Friday, as a motions hearing for his case was about to be heard, Barndt’s attorney asked for a most unusual sidebar, requesting that his client be allowed to marry his girlfriend before the proceedings.

Young Love Presides at Crack-Bust Wedding Ceremony.

At first, Judge Leonard Zito balked.  It seemed, somehow, not an appropriate usage of the taxpayers’ time and money.  The Assistant District Attorney indicated that she, too, did not approve.  But, according to Gary Asteak, Barndt’s defense attorney, “Love can’t wait.  Love is immediate and demanding.”  Maybe Judge Zito thought it would save time to not fight it.  Maybe he was overcome with the wave of romance and sentiment that swept through the courtroom as the prospective groom stood before him in his prison-issue tuxedo alternative.  Asteak explained that the couple had been trying for weeks to arrange their nuptials and had even obtained a marriage license, but Barndt’s imprisonment made things a bit challenging.

Judge Zito relented and, after hearing the motions, presided over the ceremony in which the couple exchanged—with a criminal defense attorney as the best man and opposing counsel as maid of honor. Due to ever-present handcuffs around the groom’s wrists, wedding rings were not exchanged.  The ADA even tried to argue that the crack dealer should not be able to kiss his blushing bride, but kiss they did.  With a room chock full of witnesses, the defendant got his girl.  No reports on whether or not tears abounded.

This was just a motions hearing, so Zito was to return to custody immediately after.  Judge Zito made it clear that he would still be hearing the criminal case and that the warmth of the wedding would have no bearing on his decision.  The new Mrs. Piazza-Barndt was overcome with emotion and is looking forward to going on a honeymoon with her new husband.  Since drug trafficking is a class A felony in Pennsylvania and carries with it a maximum sentence of 20 years, she could be waiting a while to see the sandy shores of Hawaii with her man.  Nonetheless, the frizzy-haired groom and his new wife were all smiles, showing all of us that not only Charlie Sheen’s marriages can withstand drug busts.

Ah, young love.  Perhaps the two will be able to keep the ceremonial handcuffs as a wedding gift from the county upon the groom’s release.  Whenever that is.

Now that Lady Gaga has become a household name—albeit a silly one—she has apparently decided that she is ready to take it to the next level.  She is going to be a movie star.  Sources reveal that she is ready to star in a film that “will be a mix between Moonwalker and Dreamgirls”, the story of a young girl’s dream to be a famous singer and the long, torturous road it took to become an icon for gay men all over the world.

Lady Gaga Film Likely To Be Horror Movie.

At first, it seemed like Gaga was a cheap Madonna knockoff.  Now, she’s a really expensive Madonna knockoff.  She’s all about the crazy outfits and doing pretty much anything to get attention, including wearing little more than her underwear at a Yankees’ game, and perhaps even getting banned from all future games for being seen on the jumbotron with both middle fingers flying high.  After bombing at a previous Lollapalooza, she has returned to the famous tour and is apparently not being booed off the stage this time around.  She was seen at a show in Chicago over the weekend wearing underwear, a bra, fishnet stockings, and more diamonds than Lil Jon has on his pimp cup and grill combined.  She’s come a long way, baby.

Her next venture will, naturally, be on the big screen (ahem, Madonna’s Truth or Dare, ahem).  According to the source, “Gaga wants to emulate what Michael Jackson did during the 80s.  You can already see that with her music videos.  Every one of them is mini-event”.  Well, her videos are mostly like little movies, and they do get lots of Thriller-type attention.  But let’s hope that she doesn’t emulate everything that Michael Jackson did in the 80s.  Underage boys deserve a rest.

But if she wants to make the jump from the 10-minute “Telephone” video to a full-length feature film, well, why not?  She’s just as capable as Madonna is to have herself filmed talking about sex with a bevy of sycophants, and hopefully more capable than Mariah Carey was to act in a story not terribly different from her own life.  As for mixing Moonwalker and Dreamgirls, that’s no small task.  But it isn’t like we’ll be surprised by strangeness.  Oddity is Gaga’s signature.  It wouldn’t be shocking at all to see Lady Gaga with a beehive hairdo grabbing herself while dancing.

Bryan Singer, who directed X-Men and The Usual Suspects, is in talks to direct this film.  Gaga will settle for nothing but the best.  And why should she?  After shattering all records with 13 MTV Video Music Award nominations this year and seeing her album The Fame go diamond, selling more than 10 million units, her ego must be getting close to Madonna-like proportions.

I just hope she doesn’t write any children’s books.

For the record, I think Wyclef Jean is a great candidate for President of Haiti.  He meets all of the constitutional requirements, he has always been proud of his homeland, he has been fundraising for the poverty-stricken country for as long as he’s been famous, and he’s willing to take on the Herculean task of running a nation that suffered a horrendous earthquake that took an estimated 230,000 lives and has rendered the country politically and economically devastated.  So he would get my vote.  This is one case in which celebrity status can be an asset to keeping attention on rebuilding.

Tennesseans: This year, be sure to bring Bud Light when you vote!

But then there are these folks who are running for offices in the United States, people I wouldn’t allow in my own home—much less any governors’ mansions.  First, there is the campaign by Kristin Davis, the madam who supplied former Governor Eliot Spitzer with prostitutes while he was in office.  Perhaps she is trying to change her image from disgraced ex-con madam to disgraceful ex-con New York politician.  She is running on a platform of legalizing prostitution and marijuana, stating that taxing them will close the state’s budget gap.  She is also in favor of gay marriage, much to the dismay of most gay people who would rather not have her name attached to their cause.  Davis is a smart woman who went from hedge funds to prostitution because she compared the numbers and realized she could make more than her six-figure income by supplying women to high-profile politicians, athletes, and celebrities.  She isn’t yet officially on the ballot, however, so she might have to rely on write-ins and, possibly, returning to selling herself in the financial sector the legal—yet no less reprehensible—way.  Spitzer resigned before he could be impeached, and is said to be in couple’s therapy with his wife, who probably should have hocked her engagement ring while it could have still gotten scandal-worthy top-dollar.

And then we have the incomprehensible Republican gubernatorial candidate, Basil Marceaux Dot Com. This good ol’ boy is running for office in Tennessee, and he pledges to all of those who vote for him that he will “immune you from all state crimes for the rest of your life!”  That was all in bold, capital letters on his website, by the way.  In his most recent campaign ad, he tells us, “Put me in the Capitol [pause] so I can [pause] do my issues”.  To go along with his nearly unintelligible speech, there were bullet points.  This is so we can better understand why he wants to “plant vegitation [sic]” in vacant lots so ethanol will somehow be created that he will be able to sell or trade for money and gas.  I paraphrase this after taking several viewings myself to understand (I still don’t).  He also vows to “stop traffic stops”, no doubt endearing him to the many NASCAR fans in his constituency.  Plans also include to “make the flag fly right”.  The thing is, you almost want to love this guy because he is who he is.  He doesn’t pretend to be the many things that other political candidates declare of themselves: educated, bright, media savvy, or qualified.  He is, one might say, no John Kennedy.

Election day should be a hoot this year.

Not long after the announcement that 16 year-old Justin Bieber wrote an autobiography (about what—teething?), we learn that he will also be starring as himself in a 3D biopic.  Evidently, the director of An Inconvenient Truth is in talks to direct Bieber’s film.  Now that’s inconvenient.   Now seriously, what is the deal with Justin Bieber?  There have been 16 year-old singers before.  In the 80s, members of Menudo were booted out when they reached that age.  In the 90s, we had that “Mmmmm…bop” group of brothers, one of whom many of us believed to be a girl.  Then the Jonas Brothers came along.  But their fan bases were all the same: 12 year-old girls.

Justin Bieber (not young Ellen DeGeneres): so much wisdom to share.

So what is it about Justin Bieber that makes him interesting to adult women?  What would make the director an Academy Award-winning movie about global warming decide to document the life of a girlish boy who hasn’t stopped collecting from the tooth fairy yet?  In an effort to understand, this adult female watched the video of “Baby”, a song that disturbingly features rap artist Ludacris who, until that point, had street cred.

I still don’t get it.

The image of a 5’3” teenager professing his love and offering to buy an elusive girl an engagement ring didn’t was just a little creepy.  And to see Ludacris (oh, Luda, what were you thinking?) supporting this by rapping to perhaps the most bubble-gummy music in history only makes a person wonder this: how much money is Bieber shelling out to these people?

But he delivers on his promise to provide words of wisdom to readers and viewers.  In his book, he talks about how he plans to make the world a better place, one fan at a time.  He explains: “People write to me and say, ‘I’m giving up, you’re not talking to me.’ I just write them a simple message like, ‘Never give up,’ you know? And it changes their life.”

Despite his issues with grammar, it is so comforting to know that he wants to give life-changing experiences to his readers.  He cares enough to offer 3 or so words to talk a youngster off the ledge.  Perhaps he does this via Twitter to reach as many nearly-suicidal tweens as possible (or at least the ones that check @justinbieber before hitting mom’s medicine cabinet).

Paramount Pictures, the studio that brought us everything from The Godfather to Iron Man, has acquired the rights to Bieber’s life story.  They will be able to show us the transition of a boy to a slighter older boy.  Depending on how long production takes, we may even get the story of Justin getting his wisdom teeth and first chest hair.

We can only pray.

It came as no surprise when Charlie Sheen agreed to plead guilty to one count of misdemeanor third-degree assault when opposing counsel offered to drop two other charges, including felony menacing.  This all stems from the argument he had with wife Brooke Mueller last Christmas during which she claims that he threatened her with a large knife.  Now he is free to continue work next week on his still-popular sitcom Two and a Half Men.  There’s a great role model for the kids to be watching.

Charlie Sheen is free to menace again!

One can only assume that the agreement was drafted by an opposing attorney who was himself under the influence of something.  The terms of Sheen’s release include 30 days of probation, 36 hours of anger management, and 30 days of rehab.  Not only can Sheen check into his second home, Promises (into a room that by now must be known as the “Charlie Sheen Suite”), but he might not have to go at all, since the 93 days he’s spent there this year alone might be able to negate any rehab related to this particular conviction.  The actor was also concerned about suffering the embarrassment of performing community service in Aspen, playground of many of his rich and famous friends.  Picking up trash alongside the highway while Robert Downey, Jr. bombs by in a Porsche is just more than the comedic actor can handle.

Sheen has, evidently, already done a 36-hour anger management course, but that might not apply to this case.  Brooke Mueller, who admitted to a few addictions of her own, has also done some rehab and, according to Sheen’s attorney, both have been sober for months.  Months.  That must come as a huge relief to Denise Richards, Sheen’s first wife and mother of two of his children.  Now he’s likely to be a much better Daddy.  He and Mueller, who finally stopped wearing her wedding ring in June (although that could change at any time), have reconciled several times since the Christmas Day event.  According to the 43-page divorce papers that have been drafted—but not yet signed—Sheen will have ample visitation with his twins by Mueller, and neither parent will be able to talk trash about the other in front of the kids.  We’ll see whether it is little Bob or young Max who first utters the phrase “money-grubbing” or “violent junkie”.

While it is, as usual, the kids who suffer the most in these situations, it is normal for the parents to suffer a little, at least.  For Charlie Sheen, who is no stranger to domestic violence and drug addiction, to be able to return to work on his popular television show within a week after his conviction seems, somehow, just not quite right.  But that’s Hollywood.  It’s a shame that Charlie Sheen can’t seem to reinvent himself the way Robert Downey, Jr. has.  But, then, it was over a year in jail that finally forced the actor to change his ways.

So far, Charlie Sheen has dodged more bullets than he ever did in Platoon.

It would not be accurate to say that all of the contestants on Dancing with the Stars have been light on their feet.  One might say that some of them have been downright awful (ahem, Kate Gosselin).  But if Troy Aikman was truthful in blabbing to TMZ that he will appear on next season’s competition, we can brace ourselves for an all new level of elephantine clumping.  Sure, some football players have done a pretty good job on the show, something you might expect from a running back or a wide receiver.  They make their livings using footwork to catch balls thrown by hulking masses known as quarterbacks.  The NFL doesn’t sign quarterbacks for their ability to run any more than Major League Baseball signs pitchers for their ability to hit home runs.

Stick to what you know, Big Guy. Please.

The day after Aikman made his surprising announcement, he backpedaled—even better, I might add, than he ever did on the field—joking that it would interrupt his schedule with American Idol.  It is likely that he changed his tune because ABC doesn’t like to reveal the casting of upcoming seasons until they can do it their way.  One might argue that Aikman would be better qualified to judge potential singers on American Idol that he is to dance anywhere, ever.  Not all the Ochocinco-style diamond rings and diamond necklaces distributed to the judges daily, under cover of darkness, will win him the competition.  It’ll be fun to watch, though.

As for American Idol, Troy Aikman is just about the only person not rumored to become a judge next season.  With Ellen DeGeneres bowing out and Simon Cowell finally ready to move on, speculation about the potential replacements has ranged from the ridiculous to the even more ridiculous.  Jessica Simpson was the first name thrown to the wolves, the Elton John, Harry Connick Jr., Justin Timberlake, and even Howard Stern.  Sean “Diddy” Combs apparently expressed interest in taking time out of his busy ego-massaging schedule to join the panel.  Now it appears that Jennifer Lopez is actually signed on as a new judge.  And the most disturbing rumor, particularly if it comes true, is that Aerosmith frontman Steven Tyler has been approached to be on the show.

Really, Steven?  Please let this be a joke.  While it would be entertaining to see him as a guest judge on the show, it would be just embarrassing for this to actually become a full-time gig for him.  American Idol is pop culture at it worst (maybe a close second to Dancing with the Stars, but still), and he is The Man.  He was rock and roll even when it wasn’t cool, and he continues to be, no matter how old he gets.  He’s a legend.  He can still rock out with the best of ‘em, and millions upon millions of fans were ecstatic when Aerosmith announced their current tour.  Seeing him sitting next to Randy Jackson and J. Lo would be degrading, at best.  Counter-culture, Steven, please.

The new seasons of Dancing with the Stars and American Idol promise lots and lots of pre-season controversy.  Let’s hope that’s all it is.