From "C-List" to "A-List."

So you find yourself an aging, over-the-hill actor or actress (and these days, who can tell the difference?)."  The good roles have passed you by, but the rolls around your waist...haven't.  Your mansion needs a new roof, your Rolls-Royce has a balky transmission, and your Malamute-ShihTzsu-Great Dane-AKC registered crossbreed has a boil on its belly and needs a $54,000 operation.  

By a Veterinarian to the Stars...

You've got to make something happen to break back through and re-emerge on "The Scene," and start generating some of those Big Bucks "stars" like you are supposed to earn.

You've even considered taking a pick ax to The Donald's "Star" just to garner some media attention (has that been done yet?).  I mean, the pappawhatzits don't even chase after you anymore!

So, some of you may not know that I, The Chuckmeister, am a Certified Genius at public relations and crisis management.  And therefore I'm uber-qualified to provide my personalized Rx for the Tinseltown Over-the-Hill-Crowd who find themselves in need of some career guidance...

If you've slipped from the Top of the Heap to the Bottom of the Barrel, all you have to do is:

1.  Call a press conference and declare you're a sex addict.  State that it has ruined your life and your career and your marriage, but that you've sworn off that frowned-upon activity and entered rehab.  And that you'll be back, pretending to be someone else on that Silver Screen, before you're even missed!  Your fellow Progressive Social Justice Warriors will all say "Awwww!" in unison, and welcome you back within the fold. 

2.  Or, if you prefer, declare that you're a drug addict, and that it has ruined your life and your career and your marriage, but that you've entered rehab and you'll be back, Top of the Heap before your adoring fans can wipe the tears of sadness from their faces.  Think Robert Downey The Junior.  Worked for him, didn't it?

3.  Or, once again, you're an alcoholic, and your life and your career and your marriage is in the dumper.  Stated simply, your friends in Brentwood have removed your card from their Rolodex.  It's not that you don't get good roles, you don't get ANY roles!  Soooo, Pilgrim, you call a press conference, state openly and humbly that Evil Drink has ruined your life and your career and your marriage.  

Buuuuut, you're so very pleased to announce that you've entered rehab and you'll be back, memorizing lines, and preparing to receive your next Tony/Oscar/Grammy/Floatie/Dumpy/Crappy with mucho Progressive humility. 

Think back on all the so-called "celebrities" whose careers went from waaay down to waaay up by simply admitting a human foible, whether real or not, and then doing some of that public self-flagellation in penance.  The plastic two-dimensional folks in Hollyweird are soooooooooo predictable!