Sometimes, when I see nobody-wannabes getting feted by the tabloid - and not so tabloid - press, I wonder where they will be in two years time.
I imagine, if you're young, and get paid a massive amount for doing nothing, it is natural to believe you're set up for life, either because the sums - actually barely enough to buy a house - seem like a fortune or because they assume that being a Model-Actor-Whatever is a guarantee of a long and rewarding career.
There are stories of Bros, at their peak, partying and larging it up in the lap of luxury, little knowing that they were being charged for their extravagant lifestyle which they naively believed was subbed by the record company. It is said that David van Day from Dollar has a hot-dog stand on the road to Brighton. I was briefly acquainted with a guy who joined a chart-topping band after they had topped the chart. He lives mainly on benefit, interspersed with an occasional nostalgia tour, and he seems incapable of having a conversation that does not refer to the past glories of his erstwhile colleagues.
In reality, I know that many pop stars whose pop careers don't endure, rejoin the human race and do the range of jobs that normal people do, often using the proceeds of their short-lived fame to set up a business. I have known for some time that Kim Wilde does landscape gardening, and Richard Coles from the Communards is a vicar. This week I I learnt that D:Ream's keyboard player Brian Cox is now an experimental physicist, and that Bruce Dickinson of Iron Maiden is a pilot (and also an international fencer). I'm sure there must be many more out there.
