Sometimes when you are a world-famous rock star (or his wife) and you're in a hot hurry to get somewhere--say, for instance, the White House Correspondents Association has invited you to worship with them at the altar of the One--you just gotta jettison your deeply held carbon footprint principles and hire yourself a private jet. Because what with all that global warming and everything, without your retinue of stylists and nutritionists and water carriers and door openers and umbrella holders, you just might not look your very, very best.