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and talented (supposedly), but, without a doubt, a bona-fide train wreck. But, like so many other young, Hollywood starlets who are washed up before they are thirty, she didn't start out that way.

Before she was even twelve years old, Lindsay was launched like a bottle rocket straight into the black velvet skyline of celebrity to take her place among the other shiny, twinkling stars. For a time, the bombs seemed to burst in the air for Lindsey with one movie success after another. I guess you could even say she had her own rocket's red glare.

But, before too long, her razzle dazzle burned out and instead of watching her shine on the silver screen we were watching her stumble out of nightclubs drunk. We watched as she crashed her Mercedes into a tree and before the paramedics and EMTs arrived, take a quick power nap - complete with a gaping mouth and drool running down her neck.

She frolicked, without shame, or her panties, into the Hollywood night with Britney and Paris. She was publically scolded by a Hollywood executive for her lack of professionalism. She reconciled with her dad. She broke up with her dad. And just when it all became unmanageable, she did what every good Hollywood celebrity would do - she checked into rehab.

Meanwhile, her mother ( Hello? Where was she anyway?) issued press release after press release reminding us that "girls just want to have fun" and that dear Lindsey was just fine. Really? Okay.

So anyway. It's been difficult, even for me, to watch all of that familial dysfunction being worked out in the tabloids, on the television and basically in front of any camera that is willing to record it.

Oh, yeah, sure, they complain about the constant intrusion into their lives. How difficult it is to be chased around by the paparazzi day in and day out. And that none of us, at least, those who are watching, really understand what it is like to have lives that are so interesting and so important that you are hunted down like a dog. It's so horrible to be stalked and preyed upon, sniff, sniff, and sniff and.......wait........where's the camera?

I'm usually pretty unaffected by all of this, except maybe to roll my eyes and shake my head with a self-righteous tsk, tsk, tsk. Though, I can't help but wonder what goes on inside that family to create so much drama. I mean, I don't know about you, but, I have a hard time believing that a twenty-two year old is able to manufacture all that prima donna mojo all by herself. The

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