Mazel tov on the wedding, Kim, and so sorry to hear about the divorce. It's such a drag when these things don't work out, especially when you went to so much trouble to make sure everything was so beautiful; and your mom went to a lot of trouble to have a face lift for it. Well, look at it this way: The memories will last forever, and the face lift will probably last for at least a little while too!
I haven't had a chance to watch the wedding yet, but word is it was lovely. And so profitable. You're so great at making money; I've never seen anything like it.
I mean, I'd never heard of you until that tape of you having sex came out. And then you became famous. And now you've had this short, fairy-tale second marriage. I have a few friends that had a starter marriage or two, but they've tended to get really depressed or embarrassed and just laid low for a bit. But I hear you dealt with it by going to Australia to plug your new handbag line. Perfect: Pick yourself up, dust yourself off and sell accessories.
Listen, I'm writing because I live right here in L.A. and I run a charity. It's called Big Sunday, and the idea is that everyone has some way to help somebody else — poor people, the homeless, seniors, stray pets. We get tens of thousands of people to help make our world a better place, every year. As far as I'm concerned, no one does this better than you. I know you've said that your wedding gifts are going to the Dream Foundation, which is a great organization, and they deserve it. Plus, it's a great tie-in: dream wedding/Dream Foundation.
So, I have an idea: Film the divorce. I'm sure you can make a bundle, and then you can give some of it to my charity. I know you're following your heart — and my charity has a heart in our logo! It's a natural! Plus, it will be riveting, kind of like the whole thing with Michael Jackson's doctor, but everyone gets rich.
These days, fundraising's so hard. For instance, for the last two weeks I've been trying to raise $5,000 to fix up the crumbling house of a veteran who did two tours in Iraq. It's been tough, but you could make that just by letting us watch you call your lawyer! And, I know this sounds kind of crass, but if you could find a handsome lawyer — and fall in love with him, that would be great. (Is Jennifer Aniston dating a lawyer? If so, steal him away!)
Sure, it might be kind of embarrassing to go through all that personal stuff in public, but you'll survive. And then you could have another dream wedding, and rather than register at say, Crate & Barrel, you could register at Charity Navigator instead. And after that you could sell rights to the birth of the baby — something to consider: fertility drugs, twins sell, and if you can pull off triplets, the sky's the limit. (You might consider a donation tie-in with Planned Parenthood.) And if that lawyer you fall for is Jewish, then the bris too! (Hadassah?) Another thing you might want to consider that I think would get a huge crowd: postpartum depression. Can you do psychotic?
With the admirable example you'll be setting, maybe you can persuade Lindsay Lohan to have her teeth fixed on TV, to raise money for the Smile Train. Or maybe Snooki could get a makeover to help preserve the Jersey shoreline, or perhaps fight childhood obesity. It's what we in the nonprofit world call leveraging, and it could bring in tons of money and allow us to avoid filling out all those nasty foundation applications with all their pesky questions.
Keep up the good work and you can be a bigger philanthropist than Bill Gates. It'd be like giving your life for a cause, except you don't have to die and you still get to be on TV.
Thanks, and I look forward to hearing from you.
David Levinson is the founder and executive director of Big Sunday. More than 50,000 volunteers worked on 500 charitable projects during Big Sunday's annual weekend project alone last spring.