In today’s gossip roundup: Justin Bieber and Selena Gomez were seen riding Segways together on Thursday, Kate Winslet was never going to let her kid be a Rocknroll, and Suri Cruise wants to grow up.
A new year is a time for new things. For burying the past in a shallow grave and moving blindly on, memory and history be damned. Unfortunately, though, some of us are weaker than others. Some can’t help but look back, to reach for some old thing and cling to it because we are afraid of the future. Enter Justin Bieber and Selena Gomez, two young people who are not strong enough to leave their broken relationship where it ought to be, in the ruins of yesteryear. No, instead they’ve sifted through the rubble and found each other here in 2014. And on only the second day! The two were photographed together yesterday, riding Segway personal clown machines around Justin’s Calabasas neighborhood. There they were, scooting around suburban streets, already damning themselves to yet another year of push and pull, of will we/won’t we. Another year of confusion and ache, of their hearts growing wrongly around picked-at wounds. Of course they are young and don’t know any better, but where are the adults in their lives to tell them “No”? To warn them about the dangers of not feigning closure, of not bottling up all those unanswered questions and sticking them way down deep into their guts and bones where not even a therapist can get to them?? That is what mature adults do! Don’t Justin and Selena want to be grownups? Don’t they want to choose pride and pretend rather than, what, spending a sunny afternoon zooming around with an old love because who knows what might happen? How foolish of these two youngsters to think they can figure things out “someday,” that life doesn’t have to be a bitter game of stubborn regret. I’m sure they’ll figure that out someday and will join us in the ranks of proper bleary, sadsack adulthood. But, alas, they’re not there just yet. So for now they’re zipping around together as if they are still possessed of possibility. As if Segways aren’t just about the silliest things ever invented by the human race, besides love. And all we can do is sit back and sigh and shake our heads, confident, at least, in our own determination to never look back. It’s a new year! Who’s got time for things we miss? Gotta keep moving. Gotta keep going. On our feet, that is. Or in a car. Or a lonely rumbling subway train. Never on a Segway. Absolutely never on one of those. We're grownups, after all.
Here’s some sad news: Kate Winslet told U.K. Glamour in a interview that her new baby Bear Winslet was never going to get his father’s last name and thus be named Bear Rocknroll. Isn’t that too bad? Her exact words were this: “We haven't ever really had that conversation; it was always going to have my name. Mia and Joe have it as part of their name, so it would be weird if this baby didn’t. Of course we’re not going to call it Rocknroll. People might judge all they like, but I’m a f--king grown-up.” Aw nuts! So there was never even a possibility that we’d have a child named Bear Rocknroll wandering around this world. We were fools to hope, downright dopes to think that anything as wonderful as that could happen these days. This is a rotten old place and very little good happens here, and certainly nothing nearly as incredible as a child named Bear Rocknroll. Oh well. I guess it was a fun dream while we had it, however briefly that was. I guess we’ll just have to settle for a kid named Bear Winslet, the son of a movie star and a man named Ned Rocknroll, who met after the movie star saved Rocknroll’s grandmother from a fire on her billionaire son’s private island, the reward for which is that the movie star gets to go to space with the billionaire, who is starting a space program. That will have to be enough. Sigh.
Suri Cruise is growing up! The child of Katie Holmes and the one we call Tom Cruise is seven years old, if you can believe it, and she’s already started asking for some big girl privileges. Namely, she’d like to get her ears pierced. Anyone who was a little girl once or who grew up with sisters remembers those fraught negotiations between parents and child, unless you’re from a culture where girls get their ears pierced as babies, in which case it was no big deal. But for some, yes, the Getting My Ears Pierced discussion was a big one, and even the children of the intergalactically rich and famous must go through it. Suri’s requests for the procedure were overheard in Miami Beach, where Suri, Katie, and the extended Holmes family were vacationing at Canyon Ranch. The entire retinue, including bodyguards and a nanny, totaled 17 people, so not only did Holmes have to deal with all of them, she had to listen to her seven-year-old daughter beg for ear piercings all week. Will Holmes cave in? Who knows. Seven is a littleyoung, maybe, but then again what does a couple of years really matter? If the child want holes in her earlobes, then maybe she should just get holes in her earlobes. Though I guess making sure they are clean and don’t get infected requires some degree of vigilance, and seven-year-olds are perhaps not the most careful people, not the most attentive to maintenance and detail and routine. So maybe that is the concern. Or maybe Cruise himself has weighed in, saying something like, “No child of mine from this Earth or any other will ever have its sacred body pierced, not in this millenium or the next.” I mean, he should get a say in the matter as well, shouldn’t he? I’m sorry, dear Suri, but you may have to wait a bit. I know it might feel like everyone in your grade is getting their ears pierced, and that the older girls at school look so coolwith their earrings, but maybe just try to enjoy being a kid, maybe try to stop rushing into maturity. I know there’s a sweet spot of like 16-22 when everything is exciting and everyone wants to get to those years, but they can also be very difficult, and they go quickly, and then you’re left on the other side suddenly grasping back when you should just be marching on into rigid adulthood. Just look at Selena Gomez, dear Suri. Only 21 and already willing herself back into the past. So don’t rush it, Suri. Just enjoy the ride. (Not on a Segway.) You’ll get your ears pierced eventually and before you know it, you won’t remember a time before you did.
What do you do when you used to be the mayor but then suddenly you’re not the mayor anymore? Well, if you’re Michael Bloomberg you go to the theater. After attending the inauguration of new New York City mayor Bill de Blasio on Wednesday, Bloomberg headed to Brooklyn of all places to check out Julie Taymor’s new production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, a high-flying spectacle of a thing happening at Theatre for a New Audience. He was there with his constant companion Diana Taylor, who was perhaps helping him lick his wounds after his administration took something of a beating in various speeches at the inauguration. (And I mean she was helping him lick his wounds in the most metaphorical of senses, I don’t mean she was actually licking any part of him, you grossos.) Hopefully the play was good, at least. And then they went home and she said, “So what do you want to do?” and he sighed and looked out the window and said “I dunno. Go to bed I guess.” She walked up behind him and gave him a hug and said “You wanna . . . watch some TV? Have a little wine? Maybe fool around a little?” And he smiled and patted her hand and said, “Thanks, but not tonight. I just want to . . . I’m just gonna think for a bit and then turn in.” “Suit yourself,” Diana said as she went to the kitchen to fix herself a snack and Michael stood at the window and looked out at the city and for a quick gasp of a second couldn’t believe it wasn’t his anymore. Of course it was still his in some ways, billionaire former mayor and all, but the electric vibration in his hands, the one that told him he was truly in charge, was gone. Just like that. One day you’re it, and then you’re not. Diana walked back in and stood in the doorway, looked at Michael, her Michael, gazing sadly out the window and she wasn’t quite sure what to do. “Storm’s coming,” she finally said, referring to the snow and wind making its way in from the ocean. Michael nodded. Looked up at the dark, troubled sky. “It sure is.” And then they turned the lights out and went to bed.
After nearly a year on the market, the house that Katy Perry and Russell Brand shared during their brief marriage has finally been sold. It was Perry who did the selling, initially listing the house for $8 million. She’d bought it for $6.5 million, so she was clearly hoping to make a profit, but unfortunately the home ended up selling for $5.66 million. So she lost almost a million dollars. But no matter. Doesn’t she make a million dollars like every week? She’s got to. She has like forty-six thousand hit songs on the radio at any given time. She’ll be fine. I mean, financially speaking. Who knows about emotionally or whatever, though she and John Mayer seem happy, don’t they? But yeah, financially, she’s sure to be O.K. I know she spends about $30 million or so a year on space wigs and whipped cream cartridges, but that still leaves her with a little wiggle room. She can afford a million-dollar loss, I’m pretty sure. Just make “I Kissed a Girl 2,” about getting pretend gay married to attract boys at bars, and move on with your life, Katy. You deserve it.
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