What do you do when you see Justin Timberlake and Jessica Biel at your Hollywood Hills polling place? Desperately try and resist the urge to whip out the camera you've brought along to commemorate the occasion with your kids and get 'em squarely in your sights.
When celebs are spotted on the down low, it doesn't seem fair to be scolded by your Star magazine-reading offspring when you dare to suggest snapping stars yourself, now does it?
Ah, the Hollywood hitch: you've spent years admonishing your children not to be swivel-headed slack-jawed stargazers; to let the famous have their forays into the real world in peace.
Once in a while temptation takes hold and you may very well be struck down, starstruck yourselves.
We "insiders" wear our ability to grant privacy to celebrities as a badge of honor. It's a quality that we feel stands us in singular stead, an unwritten rule of living amongst luminaries in Los Angeles and what allows us to pass judgment on those nefarious paparazzi and name shoutin' pen wieldin' crowds shoving 8 X 10 glossies at 'em.
But once in a while temptation takes hold and you may very well be struck down, starstruck yourselves. And then be forced to withstand mocking from your own children when you find yourself encroaching, "They shouldn't have to worry that someone's going to take their picture when they have no makeup on and it's 7:30 in the morning, Mom!"
Today I realized that it was my daughters that were Too Cool For School and not me. A vote for freedom FROM not OF the press!
