Why We Care About Anna Nicole

There's nothing quite so embarrassing as when your cell phone rings in the middle of class. Although I'm usually good about turning my phone off, remembering to do so slipped my mind on Feb. 8. As soon as I heard the familiar ring blaring from my backpack, I blushed and hurried to quiet it, apologizing to my Lit Hum class for the interruption and saying that it wouldn't happen again. My sincerity was probably compromised by the fact that two minutes later, it started to beep loudly, indicating that I had a text message.

Clearly, whoever was trying to get me on the phone had to tell me something important-why else would they have tried to contact me twice in as many minutes? As I found out after I left the classroom in the lobby of Carman, the information my mystery caller was trying to tell me was even more tantalizing than I had imagined it would be: my sister had been calling and texting me to let me know that Anna Nicole Smith had just died.

I'm ashamed to admit it, but the first thing I felt when I heard the news wasn't remorse or sympathy for Smith's family and four-month-old daughter, Danniellynn, or even shock. It was the exhilarating glee that comes from learning a really juicy piece of gossip. Thinking about it now, I feel like the only way to justify my insensitive reaction is an ad populum argument-if everyone else was responding to Smith's untimely demise with a mixture of morbid fascination and tacit delight, I felt entitled to do so as well. A glance at the cover of the Feb. 26 issue of People magazine reveals that I was just going along with the crowd-the words "BATTLE OVER HER BABY" are superimposed in bright yellow letters over a picture of the late Playmate of the Year holding her infant daughter.

Of course, the death of a celebrity, especially one as unusual and marginal as Smith, who is probably best known for either a) marrying an oil tycoon who was old enough to be her grandfather or b) starring in a reality show that made Temptation Island look like Masterpiece Theater, isn't news for some people. Those are the same people who take pride in the fact that they don't watch TV-and unfortunately for them, in the United States, they're a rarity. We live in a celebrity-obsessed culture, where every minute detail of every star's life is breathlessly recorded in one of the weekly tabloids crowding newsstands or immediately posted on a blog like Defamer.com or Gawker.com.

But why do we care about Vince Vaughn attending Jennifer Aniston's 38th birthday party, or Paris Hilton's personal war against underwear? Is it because we want to live vicariously through the rich and famous? Do we refer to celebrities by their first names in an attempt to familiarize them and make ourselves feel like they aren't that different from us, just wealthier and better dressed? One thing is certain-pure schadenfreude is at the heart of the joy we feel when reading about the misfortunes of celebrities. We normal people feel morally superior to stars when we find out that they're in rehab again-"I may not be famous," we think, "but at least I'm not an alcoholic."

One could argue that someone who has willingly put him or herself into the public eye deserves the consequences of that decision-unrelenting critical scrutiny. However, even though I'm a loyal People reader myself, I feel inclined to agree with a point that late-night talk show host Craig Ferguson made in his opening monologue on Feb. 19. During his funny yet poignant speech, the Scottish comedian discussed his decision not to make any jokes about the recently bald Britney Spears, saying that the troubled singer doesn't need to hear mean-spirited comments, she needs help. Ferguson is right: there's a point where the celebrity obsession goes too far. As enthralling as it may be to hear about celebrity scandals, it also might be wise to take a step back every now and then and think about what we're doing. There's more to life than meticulously inspecting the lives of people we've never met. Oh, and speaking of inspection, did you see what Cameron Diaz was wearing at the Oscars?