Writer's Cramp

12 January 2003


Cruise Signs Autographs for 5,000

While feeding 5,000 as Jesus did is a much better stunt, Tom Cruise should get an honorable mention for spending two-hours in Leicester Square signing 5,000 autographs for his admirers at the London premiere of his film, "The Last Samurai. Mr. Cruise, who is a movie star rather than an actor, also took pictures with fans and spoke on many cell phones to surprised relatives and friends of his supporters. He remembers, unlike too many celebrities, why he doesn't have to sweep floors for a living.

Everyone has heroes, and the world was a better place when that word was used instead of the psychobabble term "role model." And like medieval society that reveled in saints' bones and pieces of the True Cross, the 21st century creates relics with the signing of a name, a direct tie to the object of adoration. Such affection is morally neutral; the ends to which it is put by the object of the adoration is where things get sticky. Movie stars, musicians and others in entertainment use it to get and stay rich, while megalomaniacs use it to commit genocide.

Yet that adoration is often a one-way street. More than one athlete is renown for never signing autographs or for charging a fee for a signature. "I don't do autographs," would be acceptable if there were some indication of illiteracy -- no one in the public eye should be embarrassed in that way. Yet, with the exception of rock drummers and college football linemen, most everyone among today's glitterati can spell his or her own name. Penmanship is not even an issue.

Understandably, it is annoying to have one's dinner interrupted for an autograph (or so one imagines since firsthand experience of such is lacking), and there should be a certain restraint on the part of admirers to respect the humanity of the celebrity. On the other hand, at a film premier, during spring training batting practice or after a concert, the pursuit of a John Hancock is perfectly legitimate.

More than a signature, though, celebrities often forget just who made them celebrities. Without the cheering crowds, the Beatles would have been four working-class kids from Liverpool who could play a bit, Babe Ruth would be recalled as a funny looking guy who could hit a baseball, and Mr. Cruise would be just another face on the train in the morning.

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