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To Be Famous While Ordinary: A Question and a Fantasy

2/25/2025

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                                                          Photo by Vitaly Sacred on Unsplash


We're born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we're not alone.   --  Orson Welles, 


When I was a young lass, all I wanted out of life was to be famous. Having children or a husband didn't interest me. I just wanted fame after my name. Seen. Noticed. Recognized. I was none of those things in my family of origin. It's not entirely unexpected, then, that I yearned for attention despite being invisible. 

As life would have it, I never married or had children. I never became famous either despite sleepwalking my way through an improv class in LA in my 20s.  

Now that I'm a newly-minted octogenarian without a mate with whom to grow old or grandchildren to love, my point of view matters. And so do I. 

That's always been true, but I definitely didn't know it. I wanted to be a famous journalist—that didn't happen. I tried to write sitcoms—that didn't happen. I pursued my goal of becoming a world-renowned therapist like Dr. Phil. No such luck. 

I didn't want to be known, much less remembered, for hitting two parked cars whilst in a blackout or being transported to the ER because I overdosed. I didn't want to be notorious for having to go to three rehabs to get (and stay) sober. Nor did I need to be the one at the meeting (accolades please!) who did not, miraculously, get a DUI. 

As I reflect on a life somehow lived through it all, I'm taking my place among the masses. I know, from this vantage, that my chance of becoming famous is right up there with winning the lottery. But I emailed Oprah today anyway. YOLO, am I right? 

I'm ordinary. Can an ordinary person claim her fame? Maybe not, but I swapped out a family in pursuit of same. 

If nothing else, I want my tombstone to read: 

Charlene Kodimer lies here. She is an ordinary person whose claim to fame is that she was never seen, and now her dreams have come to an end.

But I'm not done. My plan, provided I have a few bucks when I go, is to hire 1000 extras to attend my funeral. They will line up to say great things about me. Sure, I'll be dead and the extras will be paid, but I'm not going down without a fight!

#notdeadyet #nonamefame

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    Charlene

    The truth hurts.
    ​And heals. 

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