I’ve been surveying the landscape again, and it’s hard not to wonder how Richard Armitage’s advent in America is going to play out. The Captain America promotion didn’t count. It was a blip. This Hobbit press machine is the real thing, and its invasion is formidable. Walking around New York has made that clear. Ads for this movie seem to be plastered on every available surface, so that I can go nowhere without being met by the Hobbity bunch, even on the steps leading in and out of the subway.
I thought I was ready for this, but I’m not so sure now. Last Saturday was already my saturation point, which wasn’t a problem because I just did what I always do when I’m full up to the eyeballs on information about Richard Armitage — go AWOL for a few days. But as I try to rejoin the march, something is in jeopardy — my voice on this blog. I’m feeling the need to refrain from sharing as many of my thoughts about show business. A little Armitage Protection Mode trying to kick in.
Perhaps this post is a commitment to remain honest. Yes, I’m putting myself out here for some accountability. Please note I’m not accountable to share everything I’m thinking. If I did that, your hair would curl. But this need to remain honest is my bullshit detector coming to my rescue, and thankfully, it makes me draw back and take note of what’s going on around me, and if I’m feeling too hemmed in by conventional thinking, I want to get loose. Mostly, I fear becoming homogenized — oohing and aahhing and generally just saying the same old claptrap I find so prevalent and uninteresting.
For now, I’m hanging out with my girls, loving that, and trying mightily to forget The Hobbit exists. It’s a little hard to do sometimes:
RAFrenzy 