Where's Charlie? How's Charlie? When's Charlie Coming Back?

I bet her name isn't Kasey at all

Carlos Irvin Estevez, known and loved as Charlie Sheen, is in a rehabilitation facility as we sit reading this, or so we presume.  Just by googling his stage name, we are transported to a make-believe land where cocaine is consumed by the briefcase-full, porn stars with "stage" names such as Kasey Jordan reveal that before spending the night at one of Charlie's all-nighters, she once hung with beloved entertainer Kevin Federline and was given the task of watching Britney Spears's kids while Kevin was off doing whatever it is that he does, and the uncles of sitcom stars express their concern for their nephews by trying to usurp their sitcom roles.

Let's look things over for a second.  

America loves to laugh, and its favorite sitcom is Two and a Half Men, in which Jon Cryer plays the schlamezel younger brother, Angus T. Jones plays the underachieving nephew, and Sheen himself takes on the daunting role of Charlie Sheen.  On screen, the character hardly works, yet earns beacoup dólares, he abuses substances, mounts women in an astonishingly cavalier manner, and conducts his personal affairs in a tattered fashion.

I hate to say it, but except for the "hardly works" part, the show could just as easily be called "Bill Clinton in Hollywood."  Bill and Charlie represent that guy who is in our family, our workplace, sometimes even our home, whose rascally vagabondish ways earn him nothing more than a "tsk-tsk" and a head shaking as it chuckles, "Oh, that Charlie..."

When you're a kid, you can carouse all night, get wasted all the time, fool around and fall in love, and get up for work in the morning with nothing more than a smile.  That's when you're a kid.  Charlie turned 45 last September, and we all hope he will be around to blow out 46 candles, but for that to happen, it seems that he will have to extinguish some other fires within himself between now and then.   

He's heard it from everyone.  His co-star Cryer goes on TV to say that he needs to watch TMZ to get his Charlie status updates.  This should not be. 

Nor should it be that Charlie's uncle Joe Estevez, who has tried to become an actor and director for years now, wrote to the producer of 2.5 Men and suggested that he be hired to assay the role of "Charlie's uncle" for a while while Charlie heads off to rehab. "The show must go on," he figures, "and why not have me starring in it for a while?"

Charlie should look at how his uncle is ready to hop into his recliner the minute he gets up a second for seconds, and think about slowing down the merry-go-round for good.  And now this: Lindsay Lohan is concerned about his condition.  That's the Hollywood we know, when someone's press agent sees your trouble as his client's promotional opportunity.

Listen, Charlie, how about you tell all your coke-smokin' pals and girlie girls who star in movies like "The Porn Identity" that you want to join the rest of us in scorning them?  Tell 'em it's been fun, but you want to grow up now.