15 minutes of fame

Andy Warhol once said everyone gets 15 minutes of fame. Everyone?

I'm waiting.

Where's my 15 minutes? Did Andy use up some of my time? He certainly had more than 15 minutes. Maybe Britney, Paris, Lindsay, ad nauseum crowded in on my 15 minutes. They've had way too much fame-time, and if you ask me they squandered it. I'd make much better use of it.

Maybe I missed out on my 15 minutes because I wasn't at the right place at the right time. Story of my life. When they were passing out fame magnets, I was in another line getting extra fat molecules. Who knew?

I must have been struggling to get my voluptuous body into skinny jeans when my 15 minutes came due. It takes time to get jeans over lush curves. Then again, that ought to qualify for some kind of fame, zipping up jeans once you get them on.

Perhaps I slept through it. Must have been waiting for my vitamins to kick in and dozed off.

Or rather I was caught in traffic. Yeah, that's it. I was stuck in traffic when my fame time came. Instead of looking out for signs of 15 minutes of fame, I was focusing on cars coming out from the McDonald's drive-through. Some of the drivers were on cell phones, some were chowing down on Big Macs, some were doing both. None of them saw the other cars on the street they were pulling into. They caused me to miss my fame. Almost caused me to set off my airbags.

And if I missed my 15 minutes of fame because I was being force-fed political propaganda that comes at me from all sides, I'm really going to be ticked. Ninety percent of those people running for office could have used their own 15 minutes for better reasons than running for office, and now they're cutting in on mine. Probably tax me for it too.

I've missed out on so many opportunities for my 15 minutes of fame that if I ever stumbled onto them, I'd probably never recognize them. And if I did, I wouldn't know what to do with them.

I want my 15 minutes of fame, but I want them on my terms. In my own good time. My way.

That's not asking much.

Is it?