The problem of dead celebrities

I was listening to a recent episode of The Ron & Fez Show, where the subject turned to the heretofore untold story of how Fez, in the middle of one of his emotional breakdowns, wanted to go dig up his dead grandmother after her funeral, and how Ron had to talk him down from doing it. From there, the conversation moved to a slightly less uncomfortable topic: What is Heaven like, and what will you do when you get there?

Dave, another guy on the show, gave what I thought was one of the better answers: Cruise around Heaven with Kurt Cobain. Now obviously, that never would have worked down here on Earth. Dave wouldn't have been able to get within a hundred yards of Cobain when he was alive, let alone, hang out with him like they were best buddies. But in Heaven? Who knows?

So that got me thinking. Let's assume there is a Heaven. And let's assume the Old Testament was mostly just a bluff, and pretty much everyone gets in, unless you're, say, Charles Manson or Hitler or my fourth grade teacher.

What happens to celebrities?

Celebrities, be they actors or singers or just absurdly rich people like Steve Jobs or Queen Elizabeth, are obviously used to a certain lifestyle. Not just in terms of wealth and comfort, but also deference and privacy. They don't want to mingle with the common folk down here, and it's not likely that if it's up to them, they'll want to mingle with us up there, either.

So what happens when a celebrity dies? How is he or she supposed to cope with a world were they no longer have the ability to keep their fans at bay?

I see three possible scenarios for when celebrities get to Heaven:

1) Everyone becomes instantly enlightened. All of our human failings and desires for material objects and status fall away, and we just unite to praise God for all time. So if you went up to Steve Jobs in Heaven (or the levitating ball of light that used to be Steve Jobs, anyway), all you'd want to talk about is how awesome God is, not the iPad. Dave wouldn't even want to talk to Cobain, because Cobain's accomplishments on Earth, impressive as they were, would now seem irrelevant in the larger scheme of things.

2) You ever see Defending Your Life? In that film, when you die and arrive in the afterlife in between Earth and Heaven, you basically stay the same personality-wise, but all of your mortal concerns are forgotten. Hence, no one freaks out over being dead, and despite being happily married while alive, Albert Brooks's character doesn't think about his wife as he falls in love with Meryl Streep. Essentially, we're brainwashed so we're able to let go of whatever thoughts and emotions would otherwise keep us tied to Earth. So in this situation, celebrities are still themselves, but without the massive ego. Randy Moss will sit and talk football with you for hours. Want to go bowling with Tom Hanks? He's up for it! That kind of thing.

3) We all maintain our own identities or super-egos or whatever after we die. So even as you're entering Heaven, you're the exact same person you were right before the heart attack or car crash that did you in. I think this is the preferred idea of Heaven for a lot of people, but for the rich and famous, it'll cause massive problems.

Think about it: No money. No privacy. No security. No limos. You're a movie star, but all of a sudden, you're forced to exist alongside everyone else. On the plus side, I doubt there's US Weekly or TMZ in Heaven, so the paparazzi angle won't be as bad as it is down here. But there are still fans to worry about.

How many times do you think Marlon Brando has been asked to recite lines from The Godfather, when all he wants is to float around on a cloud? How many schmucks like Dave does Kurt Cobain have to deal with every day--and will have to deal with every day for all eternity--who want to be his best friend? I'm not sure if there's sex in Heaven, but if there is, you have to figure Marilyn Monroe has guys hitting on her left and right. Not Joe DiMaggio or JFK, either. Just your regular, average dead guys. Even people like Gandhi and Winston Churchill probably get hassled by their admirers.

It's basically all the worst parts of being famous, with absolutely none of the perks. Maybe that's the trade-off for having such a great life down here.

I guess it's possible, maybe, that I'm vastly over thinking this. But if I were a celebrity, this is the sort of thing that would keep me up at night.