It used to be said we are all promised our 15 minutes of fame. The same might be said of infamy.
Unfortunately, infamy, sometimes framed through the lens of fame, tends to linger longer in the collective consciousness.
Take Bruce Jenner, for example. The Olympic gold medal athlete had more than his share of 15-minute moments after winning the decathlon during the summer games in Montreal in 1976. After seeing his face on the Wheaties box in 1977, he kind of disappeared from the spotlight for two decades only to resurface as the husband of Kris Kardashian. Kris is the former wife of Robert Kardashian whose law firm defended O.J. Simpson in the 1995 Nicole Simpson/Ronald Goldman murder trial.
Thanks to reality television, I believed I knew far too much about Jenner and his Kardashian harem, until last Saturday, when, while waiting in the checkout line at Food Lion, I saw Us Weekly’s cover story. Apparently now that Kris and Bruce have also split, he is pursuing his dream of living life as a woman.
This infamous move may well outlive his Olympic gold medal moments, or his fame as a reality TV star, or it may impact civilization no more than a burning-out meteor that gases and fizzles before it crashes to Earth.
If you find yourself under a shower of fame, it is OK to relish your 15 minutes. These days, they flash past like 15 seconds, about as much time as it takes to make a wise decision or a bad one. But beware: just like Humpty Dumpty, one bad choice can bring it all crashing down.
Readers of Lumina News and Wrightsville Beach residents may remember Fisher Hardee’s 15 minutes of fame. In 2007, Fisher was a precocious 12-year-old seventh grader.
He showed incredible pluck at that young age, collecting signatures for a petition he boldly presented to the Wrightsville Beach Board of Aldermen in a noble, yet futile attempt to persuade the powers that be to invest in a town skate park.
Last Saturday, the day I read about Bruce Jenner in the glossy tabloid, I learned Fisher Hardee was the driver who led the high-speed chase from the mainland to Harbor Island Friday, Nov. 14.
Having reared two children in a coastal, resort environment — the northern Outer Banks — I can tell you how challenging it is to strike a balance between conventional values and island time. When you live in paradise, you work hard to earn a living, and at the end of the day, the temptation is to play just as hard, some days even harder.
We fall in love, marry, have children and repeat. Responsible adult resort dwellers educate their children the only way we know how, as role models. We enrich our community through our volunteer efforts. We provide enrichment opportunities for our kids. We do the best we can.
Yet our children grow up surrounded by extremes — extremely beautiful natural resources and extremely social opportunities. They see us work hard; they see us play hard. Each day poses a new thrill; and, if it doesn’t, well, we tend to invent one or two because we can.
One of my kids applied himself and was accepted to attend the North Carolina School of Science and Math when he was 15. He now conducts RNA research at Cornell University. His sister could have applied herself too, but she took another tack. She got her first underage drinking citation at age 15. She dropped out of high school at age 18. But, just six years later she had earned an undergrad degree from SCAD, Savannah College of Art and Design. Now she is the mother of twin sons and will soon be attending grad school at Johns Hopkins.
My point is this: Every child is different. As parents or bystanders it is not our call to decide whether a person is famous or infamous. As long as there is breath, there is hope.
Some of our kids matriculate rapidly through the system to achieve their goals, others it seems must travel the rocky road to find their way.
And so at age 19, Fisher Hardee is finding his own way today. His 15 minutes of fame are framed now by a series of bad choices.
They began when he got behind the wheel of his red sports car when he shouldn’t have.
In some cultures, his mistakes would cripple his future. But let’s not lose sight of the fact that our culture allows second chances.
I firmly believe the heart of the kid that fought city hall in 2007 still beats inside this young man’s chest.
Our prayers goes out to Fisher and his family, and to all the readers of Lumina News and residents of Wrightsville Beach, I beg you to refrain from judging and casting scorn on this young man, and choose love’s redemptive power instead.
