We hear: That Cambridge homey-gone-Hollywood-do-gooder Matt Damon will rap about Haiti with Partners in Health nonprofit founder Dr. Paul Farmer at the John F. Kennedy Library on Jan. 27 at 5:30 p.m.
I was reminded of the open letter Variety editor-in-chief Peter Bart wrote to Matt Damon, chastising the actor for being "utterly secretive" about his private life. Bart compared Damon with the famously reclusive Marlon Brando but even Damon fronts up for loads of interviews and events and has spoken about his wife and family frequently, though never in great detail. Sure, he likes to "keep his private life private", but since when were privacy and secretiveness synonymous? And why is an attachment to the former seen as, in the words of Bart, "mildly pathological"?
Today we all live with the expectation that we must happily spill our guts for whoever cares to slosh through them. Once considered a virtue, discretion is now viewed as either a character flaw or a sign that you're hiding one.
We've become so used to hearing about the lovers' tiffs, sexual kinks and medical problems of celebrities that those who refuse to offer up such details are treated with outright hostility - as in the attack on Damon - or suspicion.