Celebrity: (n) a famous or well-known person
The more than six-century-old word is rooted in the Latin celeber, meaning well known, as is the word celebrate, to make widely known.

This week the Tribune has published, “They Came From Queens,” our monthly magazine glossy, bound-and-stitched edition, is celebrating the celebrities who called Queens their home.

Normally, regulars to our paper would expect to find my column, when on the theme of the special subject, way up front and not buried all the way in the back behind the themed section.

Well, I moved it.

I moved it because when on the Friday afternoon before publication, I reviewed the more than 500 celebrities the editorial staff selected for inclusion, I had an allergic reaction to pop culture.

Since I intend to tell you about my negative feelings, I decided to let you enjoy the marvelous effort before I shared with you my disappointment with all of us.
Looking at the lists of people as they were being screened, rated, judged, and written about by a hardworking editorial staff, clearly placed today’s societal values squarely before me. And the picture wasn’t pretty.

On Friday, we decided to present the Queens celebrities in seven different categories: News & History, Arts & Sciences, Business & Industry, Notorious, Sports, Music, and Film & TV. Each person fit primarily into one of those categories, although some could have been in more than one. What got to me was that at least 80 percent of the people who were commonly recognize were in the broadest sense from entertainment fields – sports included.
Significantly less than 20 percent could be considers society builders: newmakers, business and industry forces, or from the arts and sciences.

There wasn’t a teacher in the group.

Likewise, scientists get little or no recognition unless they invented something that changes the world – the Xerox machine, and then you don’t remember their name; or perhaps their invention is entertainment-related and bears their name – Moog synthesizer.

Civic heroes, scholars and elected officials have to break records — be the first woman to run for Vice President or serve as governor for 12 years, and then it’s iffy whether they make the list.

We just knew who the celebrities were – and pop culture put them there.

My college fraternity brother Paul Simon is a very talented wordsmith and musician, but he’s like Cyndi Lauper, Tony Bennett, Louis Armstrong, Madonna and the rest; they’re musicians not surgeons.
Not a doctor on the list.

We worship the movie industry and television – turn the pages and read the names. They represent more than half of the people who made the book.

The notorious are remembered, but not many of the true contributors.

Our criteria for selection included: were they known outside of Queens and the Metro area? Would their fame stand the test of time?

Now my late friend Donald Manes, the disgraced Queens Borough president who in the middle of a criminal city scandal took his own life, made the list. But my friend Claire Shulman, who probably contributed more than any other borough president in Queens history, didn’t.

As I showed the front page draft to the younger Trib staff members, it was clear that gangster John Gotti was more universally known than my friend Gerry Ferraro, who was the first major party woman candidate to run for Vice President. Gerry wrote history. But so did Gotti – his was just a better story, I guess.

Hey, I would have loved to put three-time outer-space traveler Ellen Baker on the cover, but the only reason any of us know her is because she’s the daughter of Claire Shulman. There were two other astronauts from Queens – I don’t know if they made it onto these pages. I sure don’t remember their names.

But we all know John Leguizamo and Jerry Seinfeld.
The corporate giants from Queens are barely recognizable. Thank goodness that The Donald learned how to manipulate mass media and market himself, or we could not have put a single one on the cover.

The great writers are faceless; the policemen and civic leaders fade; military heroes are for the moment; artists and architects are their work. But entertainment stars last a lifetime, plus.

“Satchmo” may never die.

He was gifted, but so was Mrs. Goldberg, my fifth grade teacher at PS 165.

As were a number of profs at Queens College.

Thank goodness there is a Bowne House named after him or none of us would remember the gift – the first declaration of religious freedom in the new world – of John Bowne, the 17th century man who was born and died in Flushing.
The names that endure and the lion’s share of the list come from the big and little screens which dominate our lives.

It seems we have not only forgotten along the way to take time to smell the roses; we’ve forgotten that someone bred the rose, someone planted it and someone showed it to a child.

Michael Schenkler can be reached via this contact form.