As the Radar editor, I read and watch a lot of celebrity news sites and shows in the pursuit of breaking news. Apart from industry blogs and cruising through the tabloid/Page Six clip package that gets distributed each morning, I check in daily on People and Entertainment Weekly, get a stiff dose of Perez Hilton and Pink is the New Blog, occasionally pop by TMZ (and even sprinkle in a dash of star digs with the The Real eStalker blog-ah, voyeurism). In front of the tube, I may flip on everything from the pretty painful to watch Access Hollywood/Entertainment Tonight/The Insider combo, catch E!'s The Daily 10 and set the DVR for Vh-1's hilarious Best Week Ever. I like to think it's my job to know these things-casting news, show spoilers, the breakups, hookups and births-but in truth it's probably just time I get a hobby. Or, you know, a life of my own.
In any case, my celeb culture compulsion is what prompted one of my life's most surreal moments on a recent vacation. Sitting on a fly-in only river in Alaska, with a fishing guide who seriously went by the name "Magic"-a man who lived a three-hour BOAT ride from the nearest town or supplies-is the person who told me that Angelina had given birth to her wondertwins Knox and Vivienne two days before, as he plopped some slimy red roe onto a hook for me. As someone who's usually pummeled by breaking news bulletins (Christian Bale Arrested!), the fact that this kindly grandpa in waders who has two outhouses on his camp property, bakes his own bread, has a black bear running around the backyard and spends his days on a remote river, knew much more about the biggest Hollywood happening of the summer than me seemed utterly ridiculous. And at the same time, reminded me that living my life, instead of reading about the ridiculous pursuits of others, was way more fun. Though I'm still dying to know what the real story is with the whole Batman/mother-shoving/money-extortion thing is.