Due to my usual bout of Sunday night insomnia, I found myself up late watching the premier episodes of Sons of Hollywood, the latest reality-TV offering from the folks at A&E. The premise, twenty-something sons of entertainment “royalty” live together in a wondrous mansion…and the fun and frolicking ensue!
The cast includes Sean Stewart, son of rocker-cum-standards-crooner Rod Stewart, Randy Spelling, son of legendary producer Aaron Spelling and some young-upstart-Hollywood-agent type, born a regular guy, but short and dark with an apparent Napoleon complex (...paging Ari Gold).
Stewart is the out-of-control, in need of anger management character, intent on portraying himself as Tommy Lee, but with less talent or penis (should the show make it past a few weeks on air, there will no doubt be a “very special rehab” episode). Spelling seems the nicest of the bunch, in a doughy, always sweaty kind of way (oh, and for kicks, should you want to see sis Tori’s original, factory issue nose, check out the mug on bro Randy. The resemblance is unsettling).
In spite of the little-bit-of-throw-up-in-my-mouth mess that was the show, it got me thinking about why offspring of the famous often follow said parent into the same arena. I suppose just as a plumber beget a plumber, the choice of career is somewhat affected by the parents and what is known. Sean Stewart is a “singer” and “music producer” (I choose those quotes with all due sarcasm) but would never, ever find long-term success as either. Pop’s semen did not bequeath the boy inherit musical skill, ability and the golden ear. I'm thinking really hard but ain't having much luck coming up with a short list of offspring who've gone on to any sustained, earned success (and no, I don't count either Julian or Sean Lennon in the equation; the legend is too great). Ziggy Marley has a modicum of cred. Stella McCartney, bred of Sir Paul and Linda McCartney, is a well-known designer but, again, is it more due to name or game? I recall one early line that consisted of swimwear in which the crotch was represented by a large pineapple. Even Kate Hudson, brilliant in Almost Famous, seemed to have just that one performance in her.
Perhaps I am clouded by the curse of Paris Hilton.