Showbiz Commentary: Heidi Oringer

Dear Mariah,

Do you remember the 1990s, when you were at the top of your game?

There was really no competition, save for Whitney Houston, and plenty of room for the both of you.

You kicked off the decade with a self-titled album and it was such a success, you had enough money to buy Guam. Sony Music honcho Tommy Mottola, who gave you this opportunity, had instantly transformed you into a music icon. So whaddya do?

You married him, despite the fact that he is much older than you. He made you what you are. Perhaps you loved him. Perhaps you owed him.

Mottola groomed your career. You enjoyed hit after hit. But you are young and he is not. You were in the "Hangin' with the Homies" mode while he was in the "Hangin' AT Homey" mode.

Finally, you dumped him, certain you could carry on. (Later you'd say so in a song.) Alas, you walked away from the marriage with even more money, enough to buy a large chunk of the Netherlands … if you wanted.

All Was Good … Until

In the late 1990s, you were free to make some decisions all by your lonesome.

You got yourself out there and dated some hotties, all the while continuing to dance on the turntable called success. All was good until …

We entered a new millennium and you took the reins of your life. You made some big business decisions (a whopping $81 million deal) and you made some crazy business decisions (acting).

The problem you face now is that you keep thinking it is 10 years ago. You started thinking you were born in 1979, instead of 1969. You allowed those around you to put demands on you that you couldn't fulfill. The pressure mounted and you lost focus.

That pesky acting bug bit you and its venom clouded your thinking. It made you believe that if you conquered the silver screen, you could once again achieve your former invincibility. Perhaps it made you believe that if you portrayed a girl much younger than yourself, you could be much younger than you are.

A Glittering Failure

The truth is, the problems with Glitter were many. Aside from the meaningless script and your age, you are a singer, not an actress. Some make the transition. You didn't.

Unfortunately, you cannot go home, eat a gallon of Häagen-Dazs and not answer the phone for a week. Well you can, but not without the rest of the world knowing.

Eventually you had a meltdown. It was bound to happen. Only as mentioned, you were in the public eye and there was an $81 million recording contract bounty on your head and a movie that required your star power to make it a hit.

That didn't happen.

As a matter of fact, your movie tanked so badly, it was considered one of the worst films of the year, perhaps one of the worst in many years.

The record you released to go with the movie does not fare much better. Hey, you still have the vocal talent, but that too has taken a downward turn. There's a bevy of other divas selling right past you.

You melted down again.

Whether it was the fault of the managers, publicists and others surrounding you or just your own stubbornness, you insisted on getting up … the veritable Rocky Balboa of music.

Unfortunately, for you, execs at your record label decided it would be in their best interests to lift this recording bounty from over your head and buy you out for a total of $49 million rather than wasting an additional $32 million to see you continue to slide down the firehouse career pole.

You're Not Washed Up

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