Celebrity Manners?

Clearly, if celebrity etiquette is to be believed, everything your mother and your grandmother and your snippy I-told-you-so aunt told you is obsolete.

Time was when we all wanted to act like Jackie Kennedy or Katharine Hepburn or Cary Grant. They were our role models, beautiful, elegant, impeccably behaved.

Today, we’ve been handed a different brand of better-offs - model citizens, situational comedians, aging starlets and attention-deficit moguls. If we are to act as they act, then all maxims of correct behavior we were once taught are entirely wrong.

For example, you were probably raised to believe that first came love, then marriage, then the sweet bambino in the Prego stroller.

“Wrong-o!” Today, in this land of ceaseless publicity opportunity, unless you are hopelessly middle class (and one hopes not), it is acceptable - no, preferable among the sparkling set - to have that rugrat and put off marriage indefinitely; or pop out Junior, get hitched to cash in on all those gifts, then pick up a new sweetie and ultimately hold a news conference to announce that you never loved the old jerk to begin with.

Confused? Sure! Who wouldn’t be! Fortunately, we’ve brushed up on the manners for the new millennium. We know what needs to be done, and how to do it. If you’re not a star, and have few prospects of being lifted into the firmament, at least you can “act” like a star. You’ve got the questions. We’ve got the answers. Ask away.

Question: I’ve just been handed the sealed results of my amniocentesis test. When and where is the best time to open the envelope, and whom should I tell?

Answer: Glad you asked. You’re probably thinking it’s best to share the results with only your partner (screenwriting, domestic or limited) - provided he is the child’s father. Nah.

Once upon a time, pregnancy was such a personal matter that the word wasn’t even uttered, especially on television, the setter of all standards. But today, pregnancy is more than a blessed event; it’s a career opportunity! So why not throw a party? Better yet, why not be like Christie Brinkley and throw a wedding? Invite all your loved ones and those hard-working reporters of People magazine (who might be one and the same), and open the envelope in front of the whole celebrity-obsessed world. Do like Christie and shriek “It’s a boy!” so that everyone can follow the progress of your four-month-old fetus.

Question: So I told my mother that I didn’t like this rather well-known woman. Come to think of it, I didn’t use a particularly delicate word about her. Then this reporter gets my Sweet Maw to whisper in her ear, loudly I might add, and on national television. What to do?

Answer: An increasingly common problem. In the old days, before television anchorbabes were confused for priests, confessions were rarely heard on television. Denial was the statement of choice when anyone attributed anything nasty to you. Denial, or if your lawyer advised it, pleading the Fifth.

But now we live in a marvelous blame-free culture, where everyone is a victim and no one need accept responsibility for even the dry cleaning. So why not go after that reporter and her entire news organization? Blame her for taking advantage of loose-lipped Mom, thereby throwing attention away from yourself and whether you ever said anything. And make sure to do so on national television. Don’t just get mad; go public.

Question: Another baby question. I’ve been surgically implanted with the eggs of my former bodyguard, current fiance, and perhaps future third husband, provided the lawyers give their blessing. Doctors can’t assure us that the procedure will take and, if so, whether the fetus will carry to term. Should I tell anyone?

Answer: Tell everyone! Order announcement cards! Discretion has no currency in this information age. Why not go on national television? Hey, why not go on national television, lift up your shirt, show off the bandage, and then a few days later announce that, yep, you’ve got something cooking in the oven even though it’s only a few weeks old. And register for all that baby loot - now.

Question: I happen to be one of the highest-paid players in baseball, pulling down $4.75 mil a year. But, see, baseball is on strike and the exwife wants her $15,000 a month in child support. Would it be in bad taste to go to court and get the payments reduced?

Answer: You’re a star! You can do anything you want! Baseball players have been known to toss such memorable souvenirs as firecrackers to adoring fans. So why not go to court and get the payments cut in half? Who knows, things could go so well, the magistrate may ask you for your autograph afterward.

Question: I’ve dumped my second wife for another woman, perhaps my third wife, provided the lawyers give their blessing. What’s the best way to tell friends and, more important, gossip columnists?

Answer: Why by fax, of course. If it’s good enough for Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber, he who has ensured that “Cats” will roam the Earth until the end of time, it’s good enough for the rest of us. It’s fast! It’s affordable! And think of the postage you’ll save!

Question: I’m feeling frisky and funny and, come to think of it, decidedly foul-mouthed. What to do?

Answer: Silly girl, go on Letterman. Go on Letterman, the place to air embryo implantation, dirty laundry and dirty language, and increase those neurotic network censors’ Prozac levels in no time at all.

Question: Say you’re representing this former pro football star on double murder charges. Or you were just his paid buddy, accompanying him to Mickey D’s in the Rolls. Or you didn’t like the guy at all but were friends with his murdered wife. Or perhaps you’re just the defendant. Is it good manners to cash in on all the publicity, host some cable program, or “write” an instant book for big bucks?

Answer: A celebrity murder trial can be a beautiful thing, as well as a unique career opportunity for everyone involved. Unless, of course, you happen to be one of the victims.