Beginning with John Quincy Adams, whom I will always remember as the president who enjoyed… Beginning with John Quincy Adams, whom I will always remember as the president who enjoyed swimming nude in the Potomac River — thanks, “The American Pageant” — political dynasties have flourished in the United States.
Naturally, there are the Kennedys, the Roosevelts, the Rockefellers, the Bushes and the Clintons, but also the Longs of Louisiana, the Byrds of Virginia, the Dodds of Connecticut and the Tafts of Ohio, to name just a few.
Likewise, the entertainment industry also has a storied history of noteworthy nepotism: the Coppolas, the Redgrave/Richardsons, the Barrymores, the Carradines, the Sutherlands and, of course, Thora Birch’s parents, who met on the set of “Deep Throat” and without whom, there would be no “Ghost World” and thus, no reason to live.
These days, there’s a shiny new batch of inherited Hollywood favoritism ready to imprint its excessively glittery image on a society hungry for the progeny of washed-up has-beens — and thank god, lest the world never know Miley Cyrus and her impressive contributions to film and music.
For many years, the political and entertainment dynasties passed from parent to child, sibling to sibling and Woody Allen to comeback-Woody Allen seamlessly, like a cherished family recipe — a classic American tradition, akin to pie eating contests and wearing fanny packs.
Recently, however, something has changed: There has been a fusion of dynasties. Gone are the simple days when politicians’ sons became politicians and actresses’ daughters became actresses. Suddenly, children of politicians want to be on TV and children of actors want to go into politics.
Just look at Bristol Palin, who joined this fall’s cast of “Dancing With the Stars.” Instead of taking the easy way out by following in mother Sarah’s footsteps, Bristol will endure the rigors of being paid to dance on national television with Maksim Chmerkovskiy or some other attractive male dancer.
And this is not an isolated trend: Patti Blagojevich, wife of former Illinois Gov. Rod Blagojevich, appeared on “I’m a Celebrity … Get Me Out of Here!,” and most recently, Meghan McCain has hinted that she has a television gig in the works, though she claims, “I would never do a reality show, ever,” according to The New York Times.
While this trend is startling — where will we find our politicians of the future? Will Miley Cyrus realize her true calling? — I hardly think it’s surprising, especially when you consider that politics basically is acting. Nevertheless, there are many people in this country who fear dynasties and their so-called elitism.
I am not one of those people. I wholeheartedly embrace dynasties, mostly because I am actually a descendant of one — maybe even the greatest one.
The Green dynasty is pretty ancient. My family is famous for inventing the color green, which we discovered after accidentally spilling a seriously ahead-of-its-time blue-raspberry Slurpee on some pineapple slices about a million years ago.
We also invented every energy-efficient practice and custom you can think of, which is why they refer to such things as “green” technology. Oh, and we also invented jealousy — not that there’s much for us to be jealous of considering all the sweet stuff we’ve contributed to the world.
Considering these facts, I feel like the single greatest gift I can give to society is to go where no person has gone before: to create a triple-dynasty fusion — that is, to marry the product of a political-acting dynasty, thus creating the triple-threat political-acting-color-inventing dynasty, which is a truly powerful combination.
After examining my options, I’ve settled on Patrick Schwarzenegger — son of actor and Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger and Maria Shriver, of Kennedy lineage. Already, Patrick has a promising acting career after “starring” as Jock Kid Game No. 3 in “The Benchwarmers.” And with his ties to politics and Mr. Universe competitions and my ties to one of the seven colors of the rainbow, we would become the most unstoppable power-couple on Earth, no doubt merging into some kind of “Power Rangers”-esque super-machine, accountable to no one.
Because if I learned anything from “The Great Gatsby,” it’s that nepotism is the real American Dream, and self-made fortunes only leave you face-down dead in a swimming pool.
E-mail Molly at mog4@pitt.edu.
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