It isn't what it seems to be

The rock band Creed, not to be confused with Creedence Clearwater Revival, sold 27 million albums in this country, a grand total of zero of them to me.  In fact, if the members of the band walked down my street, I would have no idea who they were.  Sorry, guys.

But 27 million record buyers can't be wrong, so there must be something about their music.  And selling 27 million records must mean that someone made some money from such hits as "Torn," "My Own Prison," "What's This Life For," "Are You Ready?" "What If," "One Last Breath," "Bullets," "My Sacrifice" and
"Weathered."

With cheery titles like that, there's every reason to feel that Hallmark will soon offer a line of Creed greeting cards for every occasion.

The lead singer of the now-defunct band is Scott Stapp, and we would be so wrong to assume that he took the millions he earned through record sales, songwriting royalties and concert appearances and is now living the good life in his homes in tropical paradises and suburban pleasure domes.

What's more, it becomes increasingly apparent to me every day that I will not become the leader of a famous rock and roll band and retire again to a villa in Eleuthera in the Bahamas, with servants and chauffeurs and a butler to choose which hoodie to wear. But Scott Stapp is not living that way either.  I feel sorry for the man; he's another in the incredibly long line of people who reach for the top of his profession, get there, make a tidy bundle, and have nothing - material or otherwise - to show for it.  Last month, Stapp was on Interstate 10 in Madison County, Florida, calling 911 asking for an ambulance to take him to a hospital because, as he told police, “someone was trying to kill him.” Reports are that he is living in his car.  The 41-year-old singer's estranged wife, Jaclyn, says through her attorney that Stapp, her husband for almost nine years, "has a history of going on drug binges and disappearing for days or weeks at a time."  The attorney adds that Mrs Stapp loves Stapp very much, but is seeking a divorce and temporary sole custody of their two children.

Stapp posted a video on YouTube to describe his plight. In it, he says he has audited his record label and “personal finances”and discovered “a lot was stolen or royalties not paid.” In order to recover the funds, he needs to hire a lawyer to pinpoint the theft and file the appropriate charges. But a source tells The Hollywood Reporter that no attorney has stepped up to take the case, which tells you a lot about how much validity the claims might carry.

I'm not here to slag this guy, but to remind us all that when we see show biz kids making money hand over fist and sipping Dom Perignon from crystal goblets, the fact is that most of us here in the real world are better off in every way with our little bit of loot, sipping National Bohemian beer from a glass with a picture of Mr Boh on it.