My Second Wish: Priveleged Hot Stuff: Salma Hayek

I was prepared to go to war with Salma Hayek. She had been in the news telling the world how wonderful it was to be rich and attractive, and well, everything else out of her mouth seemed to be a silly bumble of pointless rambling. Another mindless shell with money, a la Lohan and Hilton and every other resident of the Hollywood mainstream.

I'll have what he's having

Then, I ran across the video of her breastfeeding a hungry African baby, and my stone heart cracked a bit. Given, it was a healthy baby, it wasn’t a malnourished, starving baby, and it sure as hell wasn’t an AIDS baby. And it was two fucking years ago. But the fact remains, she sat down, cameras rolling, and proceeded to whip up lunch for a crying native. Would you? No, you’d just look for the souvenir shop. After all, this is Africa, Sierra Leone of all places. They must have some of those little diamonds you've heard so much about, right?

She tries to do a little good

That’s me, and you. Salma though, feeds a hungry African baby as a spokeperson for UNICEF. She may like being rich, attractive, photogenic, but she doesn’t sit around doing cocaine on that basis. She tries to do a little good.

Alas, a little good is really what it amounts to. Hayek has freely admitted that she and her brother, Sami, were spoiled rotten by her well-to-do Lebanese-Mexican businessman father and her Mexican-born opera-singing mother. Salma has been wealthy all her life; wealthy people have many options. Sniff coke, drink, walk around shopping while carrying a small dog? Check. Get off your ass once in awhile, notify the media that you’re going to go shake hands with poor people? Also, check. Stay out of the mainstream, ride your Daddy’s coattails in hopes of taking over his Fortune 500 business, because, well, you’re the owner’s kid? Doable.

You're a rich kid

You can do any or all of the above. You’re a rich kid, daughter of a rich guy and his rich wife.

Jealous? Sure I am. There are those who say “yeah, but money can’t buy happiness. Look at the drama they have in their lives.”

That’s right. Francis what the fuck… François-Henri Pinault, Salma’s ahem: Billionaire husband (I had to use the dictionary for billionaire) has been outed as the father of another woman’s kid, a Canadian model he was seeing before Salma. So drama, yes, there certainly is that. But you know what, I bet there are people who don’t have a billion dollars, who may reside in single family homes or trailer parks, who are doing the exact same shit. And not with models OR actresses with large, fleshy breasts.

God loves me the most

So Salma, you go girl. Be rich, wealthy, privileged, however you want to describe it. Feed a hungry (healthy) African baby one day, jet to Rio the next. You were born attractive, big breasted (not mutually inclusive), and spoiled to a wealthy, educated couple in a country known for ignorance and poverty. God is obviously on your side, and you’re one of His favorites. And if God loves you the most, who am I to say you’re wrong?