It used to be where a person had to actually do something to become famous.

Roger Maris swatting his 61^st home run.

Neil Armstrong walking on the moon.

Jonas Salk inventing a cure for polio.

Albert Einstein and his Theory of Relativity.

You know, famous equaled monumental.

These days, famous has an entirely new definition.

You’re a housewife from Beverly Hills.

You’re a Kardashian.

You live on the Jersey Shore and you’re dumb as a cinderblock on steroids.

You own a pawn shop in Vegas. You own a pawn shop in Detroit.  You are toothless and from Kentucky and you wrestle raccoons in pickup trucks and dive for snapping turtles in swamps.

You put a video on YouTube.  It goes viral and all of a sudden you are somebody even if your return to  nobody comes quicker than a answering volley from Nadal.

You have a bazillion people following you on Twitter. You have 239,128 alleged friends on Facebook.

Call me old-fashioned, but give me real accomplishments. Give me a home run. Give me an astronaut. Give me a cure or a genius.

Please, dear God, do not give me a Kardashian.