Ordinary People Outshine Hollywood Weirdos

Justin Bieber, playing in his undies.

This morning I worked out for an hour at my CrossFit gym. The place was rocking as the 10am class got underway: Music blaring, weights clanking, the hum of rowing machines, bikes and Assault runners adding to the crescendo of sound. Over it all was the voice of the trainer shouting out instructions. It was glorious.

Everyone there -- about 20 people when I arrived -- was focused on self-improvement. They showed up for that and that alone. As an added bonus to staying healthy and avoiding a creaky old age, friendships form and socialization occurs. It's a complete good-for-you package.

None of the people at my gym are famous. They are not asked for their autographs and the paparazzi don't follow them around. They're all just ordinary people striving to become their best selves, without the need for awards, applause or adoration from complete strangers.

Afterwards I came home and checked my email and was bombarded with photos of last night's Grammy Awards show, which mercifully I did not see. The people shown were seemingly nuts. One man (Justin Bieber, has-been musician) sang and played guitar totally naked except for boxer shorts and socks, the better to see his tattoo-covered chest, arms and back. A woman (Heidi Klum, has-been supermodel) wore a 100% plastic, flesh-colored, super-tight dress in which she was unable to walk or sit. Several women (unknown to me) wore next-to-nothing gowns which barely covered their breasts and were obviously meant to titillate onlookers rather than clothe the wearers.

It seems plainer than ever to me that Hollywood is home to the most insecure and mentally unstable of our species, each one seeking to gain the most attention and steal the spotlight. I wondered how any of them would fare at my little CrossFit gym, where nobody is better than anyone else and every participant is a superstar.