I just read this from the Entertainment section on my MSN home page. I'm surprised it hasn't been posted yet.
When we think of the private life of John Travolta and Kelly Preston, four words tend to spring to mind: creepy, kooky, mysterious, and spooky. Turns out we're not far off the mark.
"My kids probably stay up too late," the stocky star admits to Parade magazine (via Us Weekly). "My wife goes to bed around 3 [a.m.], and I follow around 7 [a.m.]. We're like the Addams family or the Munsters, living sort of an odd nocturnal life. But it works."
Travolta, who sat down with the mag at 2 a.m., says his family's hedgehog-like existence is a way to keep their privacy.
"It's quiet," he says. "Right now, there's just you and me, and no one interfering in our space."
Nor, it seems, with his airspace. Several times a week, the actor pilots one of the private jets parked in the driveway of his Ocala, Fla., compound to the Scientology Center in Clearwater, Fla., where he apparently gets his thetans cleared out through the Church's practice of auditing.
"It's a one-on-one program that's designed to help you handle your life," says the decades-long "Dianetics" devotee, who brought L. Ron Hubbard's "Battlefield Earth" to the big screen in all its dreadlocked, platform-shoed glory (Kelly is also a longtime adherent). "I'm proud of my religion."
In between E-meter sessions and pollution-emitting plane rides, Travolta found time to slip into Divine's big shoes as Edna Turnblad in "Hairspray."
And just how convincingly does he wear the cross-dressing icon's husky-size housecoat? "Guys from the crew were hitting on me," he quips.
The actor also once again talks up his desire for 7-year-old daughter Ella to follow in his still-nimble footsteps.
"My daughter is breathtakingly beautiful and very talented," gushes a not-at-all biased Travolta. "I'd like to introduce her to the world. I will give her as much guidance as I can. Not bad to think I'm like Henry Fonda and she's Jane Fonda. Let it be the heritage, the family business."
And what of 15-year-old son Jett, who, unlike Ella, is rarely seen out with his parents and whose health has been the recent subject of tabloid speculation?
"As much as Ella loves show business, he loves the outdoors -- sports, swimming, bike riding, hiking," Travolta tells Reader's Digest, before quickly steering the topic back to his daughter. "Ella is going to be in a movie with us this summer because that's her forte."
Meanwhile, the New York Daily News reports some gay critics are troubled by Travolta's turn as Turnblad because of his involvement with Scientology.
"It's well-known that Scientology has operated reparative therapy clinics to try to 'cure' gays," Washington Blade editor Kevin Naff tells the paper. "Scientologists are required to donate a hefty portion of their income to the church. So, by going to this movie, gay people are literally putting money into an organization that seeks to 'cure' them."
Counters John Carmichael, president of the New York Church of Scientology, "Scientology doesn't try to tell people what their sexual orientation should be. The emphasis is on helping people survive better in the world. If a person comes into Scientology and they are involved in doing anything that they consider detrimental to their survival, then they can change that compulsion."
When we think of the private life of John Travolta and Kelly Preston, four words tend to spring to mind: creepy, kooky, mysterious, and spooky. Turns out we're not far off the mark.
"My kids probably stay up too late," the stocky star admits to Parade magazine (via Us Weekly). "My wife goes to bed around 3 [a.m.], and I follow around 7 [a.m.]. We're like the Addams family or the Munsters, living sort of an odd nocturnal life. But it works."
Travolta, who sat down with the mag at 2 a.m., says his family's hedgehog-like existence is a way to keep their privacy.
"It's quiet," he says. "Right now, there's just you and me, and no one interfering in our space."
Nor, it seems, with his airspace. Several times a week, the actor pilots one of the private jets parked in the driveway of his Ocala, Fla., compound to the Scientology Center in Clearwater, Fla., where he apparently gets his thetans cleared out through the Church's practice of auditing.
"It's a one-on-one program that's designed to help you handle your life," says the decades-long "Dianetics" devotee, who brought L. Ron Hubbard's "Battlefield Earth" to the big screen in all its dreadlocked, platform-shoed glory (Kelly is also a longtime adherent). "I'm proud of my religion."
In between E-meter sessions and pollution-emitting plane rides, Travolta found time to slip into Divine's big shoes as Edna Turnblad in "Hairspray."
And just how convincingly does he wear the cross-dressing icon's husky-size housecoat? "Guys from the crew were hitting on me," he quips.
The actor also once again talks up his desire for 7-year-old daughter Ella to follow in his still-nimble footsteps.
"My daughter is breathtakingly beautiful and very talented," gushes a not-at-all biased Travolta. "I'd like to introduce her to the world. I will give her as much guidance as I can. Not bad to think I'm like Henry Fonda and she's Jane Fonda. Let it be the heritage, the family business."
And what of 15-year-old son Jett, who, unlike Ella, is rarely seen out with his parents and whose health has been the recent subject of tabloid speculation?
"As much as Ella loves show business, he loves the outdoors -- sports, swimming, bike riding, hiking," Travolta tells Reader's Digest, before quickly steering the topic back to his daughter. "Ella is going to be in a movie with us this summer because that's her forte."
Meanwhile, the New York Daily News reports some gay critics are troubled by Travolta's turn as Turnblad because of his involvement with Scientology.
"It's well-known that Scientology has operated reparative therapy clinics to try to 'cure' gays," Washington Blade editor Kevin Naff tells the paper. "Scientologists are required to donate a hefty portion of their income to the church. So, by going to this movie, gay people are literally putting money into an organization that seeks to 'cure' them."
Counters John Carmichael, president of the New York Church of Scientology, "Scientology doesn't try to tell people what their sexual orientation should be. The emphasis is on helping people survive better in the world. If a person comes into Scientology and they are involved in doing anything that they consider detrimental to their survival, then they can change that compulsion."
Last week, I was geocaching in Worcester, MA. Just consider it a high-tech treasure hunt. Anyway, the area I was searching on the commons had a big yellow tent set up right nearby. The tent said "Something can be done about it"...and had a sign "Free Stress Tests". Since the area is littered with loitering unemployed & recovering alcoholics & druggies frequently, I just guess I assumed it was a tent for helping them with their types of problems....drugs, drink, work, home.....
