Michele Hewitson: Famous for being famous

I was so startled to read in last week's Herald on Sunday that there were 120 celebrities in New Zealand that I went into a decline for the rest of the weekend. This extraordinary statement was made by one Michele Camilleri, who does something in TVNZ's publicity department. She once took me out for lunch, for example.

She now owes me much more than a lunch because I spent the rest of the weekend - and you can tell I'm still not over this - trying to make lists of these alleged celebs.

The reason for this astonishing piece of nonsense was because poor old Suzanne Paul (she used to be good old rich Suzanne Paul before she decided to open a Maori village that featured a very dead looking moa and some papier mache eels) was having a whinge about not having made the final cut as one of the twinkle-toed celebs on Dancing with the Stars.

Ms Camilleri said that Ms Paul had been considered for the show, which started out with a list of 120 possible celebrities.

Started out with 120? And ended up with Norm Hewitt, Ewen Gilmour and Tim Shadbolt? Who, exactly, are the rest of these alleged celebs, then?

I would like Ms Camilleri to send me the list immediately (or she can read it to me over lunch if she prefers).

In the interim I thought I'd better watch some of the telly that features some of these celebs. This is one way to ruin a Sunday night - I've got ironing to do, you understand - but it is marginally better than spending it making lists.

I watched Superstars of Treasure Island, which featured celebs from New Zealand, Australia and Ireland. Superstars? Oh, of course. That means Josh Kronfeld, Horsey, Toddy, Cocksy Cocks and Louise "Nasty" Wallace. The one whose celebrity I'm most intrigued by, to overstate the case wildly, is Nasty Wallace.

Wasn't she once a journalist? I'm a journalist. Perhaps by watching I could learn how to become a celebrity.

I was none the wiser, until I picked up a magazine with Wallace on the cover. The headline said something about her "Pill Hell". Oh, goody, I thought. At last we've got a true celebrity. One who has been to the Betty Ford Clinic, perhaps. That'd do fine.

Turned out Wallace had been popping pills for headaches and more pills for going to sleep at nights. This story went on for so long I developed a headache reading it. I took a pill. Am I an addict?

But there is good news! Wallace went cold turkey, but because she'd never actually been addicted, she didn't suffer any ill effects from her withdrawal.

I don't think I'd suffer withdrawal symptoms if I had to give up watching Dancing with the Stars. But compare the celebs on this thing with the celebs on that other thing and, really, you'd have to be churlish to dislike the dancing celebs over the back-stabbing, bickering survival celebs. Hating Dancing with the Stars would be like hating the village idiot.

And isn't Norm sweet? I'm just not sure he's a celeb.

I've figured out what being a celeb means in this country. It means going on the telly to appear in drivel presumably - otherwise why would anyone make such a git of themselves? - then getting paid for selling drivel to mags.

And there are, apparently, another 119 celebs out there who would, also presumably, sell their "Pill Hell".

I hope they can all sleep at night without having to resort to medication.