Here’s the thing . . .
As big a name as Marc Anthony is in the music biz, he ain’t J Lo. Call it apples and oranges if you like- or plantains and yuca in this instance. But if I had one vote for best get concert tickets? I’m going with Jenny on the Block.
In the interest of fairness (read: I had too much time on my hands) I decided to conduct an informal poll on the matter. Everyone who’s anyone has a poll. The Rasmussens and the Gallups and the Associated Press. There’s the Pew poll, the Bloomberg poll, the CBS News poll, and the New York Times poll. And when CBS and the NY Times get bored? They pool their polls. ABC News and ESPN and CNN and Fox and Harris and Time, the Wall Street Journal, C-Span, CMT, MTV, VH-1, Facebook and Money. There’s even a poll on polls.
Anyway, my poll question.
You have one concert ticket, who do ya got? J Lo or Marc Anthony?
Out of the nineteen respondents I called on, seventeen went with Jennifer Lopez, one went with Marc Anthony. The other respondent refused to answer the question on account of my inability to respond to my voicemail in a timely manner.
So what does this poll prove? Glad I asked.
It proves why celebrity couplings almost always end on the Page 6 obits. Because dynamic duos are never equally dynamic. Each star possesses an ebb and flow in accordance with the physics of fame- Up today means down tomorrow. It’s like the stock market on botox. The celebrity union will metabolize into something quite different from its intended consequence, creating a Paradise Lost effect. This is inevitable, given the conflagration of egos, the convergence of insecurities.
What began as a rock lobster party with bling quickly turns into a he said/she said novella which gets played out in the public forum. Divorce is one of the few times in the relationship where the intransigent lovers share the spotlight equally. After which the appellate ramifications of their brief matrimony helps to sustain the local economies with the next sordid headline outdoing its predecessor until such time as one or both celebrities moves on, falls in love and gets remarried. The average length of time this takes is equivalent to the lifespan of a fruit fly.
As for Marc Anthony, there’s a reason his genitals didn’t follow the GPS . . . why he went all Free Willy . . . why the whereabouts of his anatomy were grey . . . why he scored more often than his Miami Dolphins. There’s a reason why he dropped his pants in more places than George Washington. It’s because her pants were bigger and he couldn’t handle that fact. (That wasn’t an ass joke, but there is one coming).
Jen has a muscled up Q rating, and her fame casts a formidable shadow. So Marc used his head- the one shouting commands south of his Mason Dixon- in order to prove he had hand in the relationship. This creep is okay with being labeled a womanizing scoundrel by the masses. Because, as he is well aware, in the sturm and drung of all this tabloidish rhetoric, his manhood prevails.
But if you ask me, J Lo got rid of the least famous of her two asses.