Forget the iPhone, the last "Harry Potter" book and the soundtrack to "High School Musical 2." Thanks to the Hollywood Three -- Paris Hilton, Nicole Richie and Lindsay Lohan -- the must-have accessory this summer has been a rap sheet.
All the cool kids have one.
Jail has made Paris and Nicole -- whose celebrity couple name, coincidentally, would be Parole -- bigger than ever. Who cares if they combined with Lindsay to make L.A. streets roughly as safe as a Fallujah marketplace?
Jail has been the year's breakout star. It's been on magazine covers, tabloid TV and all over talk radio as a result of Paris' circuslike 23 days there and Nicole's 82-minute "sentence" that made Paris look like a Gitmo detainee. (By the time Lindsay finally surrenders to the authorities, I fully expect her to be turned away from the front door and handed a coupon allowing her to run over one pedestrian for free.)
But whether you love it, hate it or resent it because it's famous just for being famous, let's face it: If jail were any hotter, it would be dating John Mayer.
And that makes "Cops" creator John Langley and his son, Morgan Langley, look like the smartest men on the planet. They've signed jail to an exclusive contract and are determined to turn it into a reality star. And, like any Hollywood heavyweight, it's coming to Vegas for "Jail" (9 p.m. Tuesday, KVMY-TV, Channel 21).
"The first season has quite a few Las Vegas segments," Morgan Langley says of the new show that follows the time-tested structure of "Cops," which is entering its 20th season of captivating trashiness (8 p.m. Saturday, KVVU-TV, Channel 5).
He says the six-week shoot at the Clark County Detention Center -- eight- to 10-hour days, Tuesdays to Saturdays, late January to early March -- yielded about 10 stories.
In one, Peter -- a Russian with somewhere in the neighborhood of four teeth, one of them gold -- checks in for yet another stay in the drunk tank. Like an Eastern European Otis the Drunk, Peter is a regular who leads the way to his cell and keeps saying U.S. jails are "like paradise."
In another, Ann -- an aging DUI suspect who says she was "the tall blond in the pink bathing suit" in "Beach Blanket Bingo" -- is being booked. Upon closer inspection, officer Nicole Sittre finds a little something extra in Ann's stretch pants. Yes, "Ann" is really a man.
"You get a lot of different types" of criminals in Las Vegas, John Langley says, significantly understating the appeal that has made the city a favorite location for "Cops" over the years. "You've got a lot of people coming in to Vegas and going out of Vegas. And in terms of law enforcement, that creates a more dynamic environment."
It also allows locals a sense of deniability. Unlike in most of the other cities the two shows frequent, there's a better than average chance the guy propositioning the 400-pound hooker isn't from around here.
"We've seen ... that we get suspects from all over the country coming into the Clark County jail," Morgan Langley says.
Regardless of where they're from, though, I've never understood why -- no matter how belligerent, how ridiculous or how naked -- suspects almost always sign the proper forms allowing their arrests and/or bookings to be broadcast to millions.
"You know what? It's a strange phenomenon. And, honestly, I don't know why everybody signs up," Morgan Langley says, adding that 90 percent or more of people filmed by "Cops" and "Jail" comply. "Maybe it's the Andy Warhol syndrome."
In other words, the quest for fame.
Last season's standout episode of "My Name Is Earl" saw most of Camden County gather at The Crab Shack to watch a rerun of the episode "Cops" shot there. It was like the Fourth of July, Mardi Gras and Double Coupon Day at the Piggly Wiggly all rolled into one as residents remembered their fleeting celebrity and civic pride.
In hindsight, "Earl" may not have been that far off.
"The new celebrity is the average man. Or woman," John Langley says, citing reality competitions from "American Idol" to "Survivor." "Everybody wants to be a celeb."
And, really, what's stopping them these days? The only thing separating "Ann" from Paris is 100 pounds, $100 million and that little something extra.
As the Langleys repeatedly say, jail doesn't discriminate.
It can make anybody a star.
Christopher Lawrence's Life on the Couch column appears on Mondays. E-mail him at clawrence@reviewjournal.com.
CHRISTOPHER LAWRENCELIFE ON THE COUCH
