The Last Time I Saw Paris

If this were the 1950's, we'd either be talking about the movie, The Last Time I Saw Paris, which starred Elizabeth Taylor and Van Johnson (yup - the same guy from the Van Halen video - remember?), or we'd be talking about the theme song from that movie - same name - that was written by Oscar Hammerstein II and Jerome Kern. They also wrote a few other songs you might be familiar with, but that's for another time.

It is 2007, and the last time we saw Paris, she was crying "Mommy" and suffering from shock as the silver spoon was forcibly removed from the aperture directly below her praetorian nose.

I never thought I'd say this, but I'd rather listen to Hillary do her best "Cat On A Hot Tin Roof" Southern dialect again then to have to endure any further reporting on Paris-freakin'-Hilton. Maybe that's because, as the father of three daughters, I've been there, done that, and I'm absolutely certain that if one her parents had taken the time to warm up her ass for her in her formative years, she'd be a slightly more productive member of society.

I made my share of mistakes, the biggest being over-protective, especially when it came to dealing with the law. I paid fines, paid for lawyers, did my best to keep them out of jail - all because I thought that's what a Dad should do. Initially, I was okay, but when you find yourself doing it again and again, it's time to wise up and remember that the best way to learn is from your mistakes.

If you're not learning from your mistakes, you're either relatively stupid or someone is mediating your consequences. I guess the real trick is knowing when to mediate and when to let the hammer fall. In the case of the Hilton's, you kind of get the feeling that Mom and Dad should be sharing cells that adjoin Paris - but in the general population, not set off somewhere by themselves.

One other aspect of this entire tragic comedy is the time the media devotes to it. A few months and substantial millions from now, Paris Hilton will once again be covered by everyone from the journalistic elite to the grocery store gossip rags, and stories of far greater social value will find their way to the back pages or not be mentioned at all.

Geez, I'm starting to sound like Al Franken - somebody help me - please - before it's too late!