Why can’t these women just be rich?

By CELIA RIVENBARK

Singer Billy Joel’s wife was sitting on Oprah’s couch the other day chatting about her happy life and I just wanted to smack her with my spatula. She’s perky and gorgeous and young enough to still have her wisdom teeth from the looks of it.

But that’s not why I wanted to stick her head in the oven. It’s because, get this, she’s written a cookbook.

This on the heels of the other Wealthiest Man Alive, Jerry Seinfeld’s younger, hottie wife writing one, too, and hawking it on “Oprah.”

So here’s my question: What is wrong with the women today who marry insanely rich and talented men and then think they still have to cook?

Doesn’t anyone know how to be rich any more? I mean anyone besides Heather Mills McCartney whom, I’m sure, doesn’t cook, unless it’s to lightly braise the still-beating heart of a freshly slaughtered baby lamb.

Say what you will, but Heather, who Paul’s kinfolk once memorably termed “an opportunistic cow” earned her money the old fashioned way: Marry a billionaire and then make sure his life is so miserable that he’ll pay you $43 million just to say buh-bye.

Write a cookbook? Not bloody likely.

Yes, now, I can hear you all whining about how women deserve to be recognized for their own skills and talents. Right. So the tiny, itsy wittle Ms. Joel demonstrated her cookbook-writing talents by making meatloaf for Oprah. Yes, meatloaf.

Meatloaf!

At the mention of meatloaf, the audience squealed like she’d said, “Pheasant de Foi Gras Snootypants.” Oprah said, “She’s making meatloaf!” and said it three times like she always says when she’s excited about something. All this is going on and I’m thinking: “Dude. You married Billy Joel. Fry the guy a steak at least. Or make what I’d make if I were married to Billy Joel. That’s right: reservations.”

From all appearances, Mrs. Billy Joel is utterly charming. Ditto Mrs. Seinfeld. But I’d like them a lot better if they just sat up there on Oprah’s couch and said, “You know what? My husband’s worth $800 million. I have no flippin’ idea where the stove is. Ewww. This sofa’s kinda scratchy, O.”

Celebrity isn’t what it used to be. New moms Jennifer Lopez and Nicole Richie, in separate People magazine cover stories, recounted tales of sleepless nights and numerous diaper changes.

Oh big deal. Celebrities can do poo just like some Appalachian Juno. As if. My guess is Carmelita is the only one changing nappies in those mansions.

What next? Yard-sales with Eva Longoria Parker?

Gawd, acting poor is so 1995, y’all. Just enjoy your wealth and give us something to aspire to. Other than meatloaf.

X Celia Rivenbark is a freelance columnist in Wilmington, N.C. She is the author of “Stop Dressing Your Six Year Old Like A Skank.” Distributed by McClatchy-Tribune Information Services.