D-List Paparazzi

D-List Paparazzi is a segment where I track down some of America’s most elusive celebrities. The truth is that they’re not elusive by choice. It’s just that nobody gives enough of a shit about them.

Today’s target: Chris Gaines

Chris Gaines, a native of Brisbane, Australia first showed on the scene in 1994, when Paramount pictures planned on making a movie based on his life. He quickly became close friends with downhome pop juggernaut Garth Brooks. I think that eventually led to his downfall and mysterious disappearance. Shortly after playing an episode Saturday Night Live, which Brooks hosted, he was never seen again. I intend to find out why.

Knowing that Gaines and Brooks were so close, my first instincts told me that I should follow Garth until I found my target. That meant I had to delve deep into the abyss of the United States: Oklahoma. Obviously, it would be impossible for me to hold my breath the entire time I was in the state that America most regrets, so I secured a HazMat suit.

“What’re you? Some kind of spaceman?” the indigenous cretins asked as I made my way through their desolate wasteland.

“Just taking the necessary precautions,” I explained.

“… You’re percaushun …” they retorted.

I set up camp in the bushes just outside of Garth’s Tulsa mansion and waited for night fall. Under the shroud of darkness, I crept to a window and peaked in. Trisha Yearwood, Garth’s wife was standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom. What I watched transpire in there will eternally scar me for life. I stared, mouth agape, as she applied shaving cream to her face and shaved her sideburns and mustache.

“Mother of God…” I mumbled to myself.

My amazed trance didn’t last long. I heard someone approaching, but I was unable to escape in my bulky suit.

“Hey! Spaceman! What are you doing on my property?” Garth Brooks lumbered over to me. “What are you doin’ lookin’ at my whife?”

I had to think fast. “Greetings, Earthling. I am here to study your race.”

“Git! Git!” Garth shook a big stick at me.

I retreated to the bushes until he went back inside. I had to see if Gaines was in there. The bathroom window seemed to yield negatory results before, so I decided to try the bedroom. I saw Garth sitting on the edge of the bed, looking forelorn. He sighed and reached under the bed. He sat a metal lockbox on the bed and produced a key from his pocket. My world turned upside down when he brought out a set of jumper cables and something that looked like a badger pelt. He set the pelt on his head. Sweet Jesus! Chris Gaines! Where did Garth go? I had, apparently witnessed some Oklahoma black magic. Gaines began to unbutton his shirt. I reluctantly watched. When he grabbed the jumper cables, I decided I should make my exit.

So there you have it, Chris Gaines still exists, but only when invoked by Garth Brooks’ Oklahoma voodoo. Perplexing? Yes. Evil? Very. I only wish I would have brought a camera with me. I guess I’m shitty paparazzo.