Passing time in the checkout line, what do you do?  Sitting in the doctor’s office, waiting for your name to be called, what do you do?  Waiting for your son to get through his orthodontist appointment, what do you do?  I crack open People magazine and never that other one sporting alien sightings.  I go for high-class celebrity updates.

Camouflage. Peeping Tom.

I admit straight up I don’t subscribe; I have standards.  Something about feeling I should exude educated gal behavior and only read the classics, The New York Times and maybe Vanity Fair keeps me away.   It’s like I don’t want my brain to get fat; it’s a treat, like chocolate.  I refrain most of the time, but if I’m out, say at a doc office or nail salon, I’m going for it.

I also don’t want to admit to anyone or myself that I like to dumb it down sometimes or succumb to sweets.  It feels weak.  So, if I want to indulge and actually buy the contraband, whether it’s People magazine or Junior Mints, it gets slipped under the whole wheat bread or green leafy kale.  I want the checker to know I’m aware of what’s good for me if there is fattening stuff in my cart.  I just pop the People (and chocolate) in with my noble purchases when I need a fix or see a familiar face on the cover and I just gotta know.  Hopefully nobody I really know is behind me to assess my choices.

Siren.

That’s the other part of the guilt in the guilty pleasure of People, the sense of voyeurism.  Is it really my business?  Should I be feeding a less than upstanding form of journalism?  Once in awhile there is a star or two or six where I kind of like to know what’s happening.  The cover photos of Farrah Fawcett and Davy Jones passing caught my eye and I actually bought the magazines so I could really scour the potent material.  I grew up with them.  I watched every episode of Charlie’s Angels and Jill was my favorite crime-fighting angel. I even had her feathered hairstyle.  I sang Davy Jones songs and was so jealous of Marcia Brady meeting Davy in person.   We bonded through TV; we were practically BFFs.

There is something weird about seeing someone in a TV show or movie and you feel like “Hey!  That’s my friend.”  I probably see more of Randy Jackson from American Idol on a weekly basis than my next-door neighbor.  And if you follow a show for years, that’s a lot of time logged into a special someone.  So no wonder I’m drawn to the cover of People when I find out Michael Landon has pancreatic cancer.  “Oh no!  Not Pa from Little House on the Prairie!”  Pa feels like family.

Most of the time, my People connection is a quick read and back to the rack it goes.  Usually that is enough, a snapshot.  However, if I get into the right line for a change and the checker is checking too fast, that’s the worst if I’m holding a juicy issue of People.  I can’t get the gist of the story or check out all the pictures of fancy clothes.  Darn it, I don’t want to buy it; I just want a peak.  Four dollars is crazy money.  (That’s twice the subscription price; I know a rip-off when I see one.)

Or say the doctor isn’t chatting it up enough with the patients and suddenly your name is called right at the moment you find the cover story page.  It’s as if someone pulled the candy bar away just as you were about to take a bite.  I had a word with my doctor when this happened to me.  “Hey.  You sure are fast today.  I barely cracked open the People Magazine.”   She invited me to stay after my appointment and finish it if I wanted.  I didn’t.  But somehow I felt cheated by her punctuality.

A girls’ weekend is an all-out People bonanza.  “Hey, are you done with the Oscar issue?”  “Where’s the Royal Wedding one?”  “Brangelina adopted more kids?  Let me see that!”  Now that is heaven when everyone is having a good time cutting lose and there is an endless supply of People.  You know that feeling when you drink a glass of wine by yourself?  It seems kind of sinful.  But if you drink wine with your friends, it’s acceptable, social and guilt-free.  It’s the same effect reading People in a group; suddenly it’s ok.  Not that anyone would call you out on it.  It’s just that internal cop tripping you up.

Yay!

Now vacations are the best time to indulge, no rush and no guilt because the whole experience is rare.  On our way back from Alaska I was not happy about sitting in the Seattle airport for four hours.  I wandered around trying to find lunch.  I passed a newsstand and stopped dead in my tracks:  “Why Katie Left Tom.”  GET OUT!  She did it!   Katie Holmes finally came to her senses and got away from that handsome couch-jumping, off-his-rocker…ah..guy.  Suddenly, devouring People was more important than devouring lunch, or even chocolate!  I bought that magazine straight out, no kale or even a bag of almonds to make it look healthy.  I didn’t even take a bag.

Four hours felt like five minutes.  Of course I hoped for some “sock it to him” insider info or maybe a bitter love song.  It was high class and private all the way and I read all about the quiet split.  I followed the fight into the following week’s issue too.  Neither Katie nor Tom graced my family room TV but they graced enough People magazine covers over the years to make it feel as if I saw them for a good chunk of my life.  (Forty-five times to be exact; I looked it up.)

I believe this is a safe vice.  My brain is in tact.  I can still spell and I know my name.  And as long as I don’t forget to shower or neglect the kids too long, I think I am under control.  If I can gobble up something without gaining weight, what’s to worry?  And, my method is practically free.  I stand behind my celebrity news choice:  People is the people choice worth devouring.

P.S.   Since this post, Tom is back on the cover again and the cover of that other magazine too.  Check it out before they are gone from the racks at the grocery store.