Hang on.
Don't start tweeting and Facebooking just yet.
Read.
(CNN) -- Country superstar Alan Jackson is famous alright, but that didn't help his 20-year-old daughter, Alexandra, when she was arrested on Wednesday.
According to Metro Nashville Police, Alexandra was charged with assault, underage consumption of alcohol, and resisting arrest during a traffic stop. The 20-year-old was riding shotgun in a Range Rover that a police officer observed was speeding, and when the officer pulled the car over, it was discovered that Alexandra "had consumed a large amount of alcohol."
Police say Alexandra became "visibly irate" while the officer spoke with the driver of the vehicle, and began making demands as she got out of the car.
The officer requested that she return to the vehicle, but according to police that only angered Alexandra more. After being threatened with the possibility of being arrested if she didn't get back inside the car, Alexandra struck the officer in his chest.
When police tried to arrest her and take her into custody, she put up enough of a fight to require the officer to call for backup. Alexandra eventually complied with the arrest, but police say that while she was being booked she "made several statements to the arresting officer" that her dad Alan Jackson "would do anything" she wanted him to do.
Police then warned Alexandra about making or attempting to bribe an officer. She's next due in court on September 23.
As of now, Alan Jackson's reps have no comment.
The comments from the peanut gallery in assorted news sites where this story appears run along predictable lines.
Some people think that if her father was local plumber Alan Jackson we wouldn't be reading and hearing about this little episode.
Probably not.
Local plumbers don't often get nearly the press the country singers do.
More's the pity, if you ask me, given that they often make about the same amount of money.
Some people are filled with "predictions" of how the Jackson family will handle this, ranging from "oh, it's just a stupid kid thing that will blow over" to "her daddy will dress her down in public and teach her a lesson she'll never forget".
Personally, I fall on the side of who the hell knows?
And, in the bigger picture, who the hell cares?
That said, we all know that the answer to the first question is "we don't know, until we do, if we ever do".
And the answer to the second question is "pretty much everybody".
Because this isn't a story about the drunken misbehavior of the kid of a local plumber, but the story of drunken misbehavior of the kid of a rich, country singing star.
Celebrity stuff.
And when it comes to celebrity stuff, especially the salacious type, just as with butter cream frosting, we can never, ever get enough.
Which, though, isn't at all the point of why I'm writing, and you're reading, this piece.
Here, at long last, is the point.
It seems to be a life truth that you get what you pay for.
And it also seems to be a life truth that you must "be careful what you ask for, because you're just liable to get it."
That includes celebrity.
Alan Jackson struggled for a while in the quest to become famous.
He succeeded.
It's what he wanted, what he dreamed of, what he hoped to achieve in his life.
Again, succeeded.
Very often, in situations like this, someone, somewhere, be it actual family or loyal representatives of same, ask, in one public way or another, for "privacy as we deal with this family matter."
That, obviously, ain't gonna happen.
But, here's a thing.
It's nobody's fault that it ain't gonna happen, but there is a reason.
A good reason.
Celebrity.
Fame.
Spotlight.
All achieved after hopes, dreams and struggles paid off.
And the thing about spotlights is that they are, of the things inside their circle, incapable of distinguishing those which should be illuminated from those that should not.
Rising tide lifts all boats.
Spotlight lights up whatever it shines on.
None of this is by way of advocating that every little piece of every little moment of the lives of famous people should be exposed, laid bare, exploited, pick your tabloid goal.
But asking for, let alone expecting, privacy when something happens along like Alexandra Jane getting faced and poking the police is, at some level, asking for, even expecting, to have it both ways.
Nobody gets to have it both ways.
Not even rich, famous people.
The celebrity spotlight, unlike its real life draw your attention to the latest shopping center opening counterpart, does not have a working on/off switch.
When you're a Jet, you're a Jet all the way.
And when you're famous, you, and yours, live in the limelight.
Okay, now, a dash of perspective.
The kid didn't leak national secrets to Wikipedia.
She didn't sext pictures of herself to a boyfriend while running for mayor of New York.
And she most certainly didn't do anything even remotely resembling twerking with teddy bears.
God love her and bless her for that, by the way.
Alexandra Jane Jackson is simply the latest in a long, long line of celebrity offspring who have suddenly discovered that it might be okay to dance like there's nobody watchin' but you gotta be aware that somebody just might be watchin'.
And dance accordingly.
Or prepare to be blinded by the light.
Because, much as those who struggled to move from blissful obscurity to world wide fame would like to believe, there, at least so far, is no such thing as a part time limelight.
It's like being a little bit pregnant.
Tweet that.
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