Everyone gets pumped about meeting a celebrity. So, when I walked into the Spartan meeting and got assigned to cover a concert of a celebrity, I was ecstatic. Never mind the fact that it was a washed up, wrinkly, make-up covered Bret Michaels; it was someone who has reached some status in the world of famous people.

My friends and I are glued to his trashy VH1 reality show, “Rock of Love,” yet again, another reason to be excited to cover the concert. Never mind the many screaming phone calls to our friends and parents, who we had to explain who Michaels was almost every time we spoke.

That was when a thought popped into my head. Just how much “celebrity status” does this man actually have?

Nonetheless, the fact that he’s not as famous as he was in the ’80s, and having since resorted to reality shows with strippers competing for his love, should probably give me even a better shot at getting an interview with him.
Michaels is known for shameless promotion of himself, so an interview would never be out of the question- or so I thought.
Contacting his publicist was as easy as hitting the Google search bar.

But when called, a voicemail was the only human contact that was reached.

But of course, a celebrity is busy so they would probably call me back at some point.
Six phone calls and two e-mails later and nothing, no response.

Determined that this is going to happen, new outfits were even purchased in hopes of looking professional for this washed-up wannabe. I’m sure glad I left the tags on and kept my receipts.

Just hours before the show, what does Mr. Michaels tell the venue?

He says no press at all.

So thank you Bret Michaels. Thanks for being far too good for a lowly college journalism student just trying to make something of herself after college. It’s refreshing to see former celebrities using their fame to help others out.

All I really wanted to know was if that hair was real anyway.