By Kim KincaidYou know the only thing separating me, and you, from superstardom? Talent, you may guess? Maybe, but thatís not where Iím going with this. The unique ability to do something no one else can do? Maybe for you, but my skills are pretty run of the mill. No, thatís not it.I think the only thing superstars have that we donít is an agent.We need someone to tell the world just how great we are. And, because we are so great, we need to be treated as great people are treated.Because of his agent, George Clooney gets a basketball court to himself wherever a movie set is built to accommodate his talents. Because of her agent, Katie Perry gets furniture in her dressing room in the colors she selects. And along with specific furniture, her 46-page rider contract also calls for a bevy of every kind of flower known to man ó except carnations. She doesnít like them, and her agent knows it. And shares it with the world.Madonnaís agent requires that a new toilet seat be installed in the starís dressing room at every concert. And, that said toilet seat not show up on eBay after Madonna has left the building.So, talent, good looks and bravada aside, Iím certain that the only thing separating me, and you, from the elite is an agent.In fact, I would guess that these folks would be almost like us, if they didnít have someone walking ahead of them trumpeting their greatness to the world, and determining because of that greatness they be treated differently than the rest of us.So, I have decided that like them, I need an agent.I make breakfast on a regular basis, and I think itís about time someone recognizes that outstanding ability. Iím certain Paula Deen was just a mother with a skillet and a tub of butter before she hired an agent.My agent needs to negotiate that all of my ingredients (bagels and cream cheese, or cereal) be on the counter top in measured amounts, and the toaster be already out before I can lift my hand to work my magic.Moving on, the agent needs to find me a chauffeur to drive me into work. And, get the car warmed for my 10-mile journey before I climb in.Once at work, I need my own personal IT worker. Iím sure Woodward and Bernstein or James Patterson started with the same keyboard that faces me daily, but because of an agent they hit the big time.And, on days the computer is working slow, it can be so exasperating that sometimes it really ruins my day. Prose that could be golden crumbles to mediocrity because of frustration. My agent really does need to get on that problem.I like chocolate, so my agent could arrange a daily morsel or two for me to enjoy. Of course, I prefer dark chocolate over milk chocolate, and I might throw a tantrum if the two are mixed up, so my agent needs to be demanding. In the evenings, I enjoy taking the dog for a walk. However, I hate trudging outdoors on those windy, rainy days. I need an agent to either walk the puppy for me, or just hold an umbrella over my head so Iím not bothered by the elements. You know, I heard once that Cesar Millan started as a dog walker before an agent helped him become the dog whisperer.My husband doesnít buy into my thinking. He believes hiring an agent is a waste of money.He claims I get enough glory without an agent. Ridiculous. And Iím going to tell him that just as soon as he finishes replacing the toilet seat.