Don't you sort of love the potpourri that makes up inflight magazines? Can't you hear the muffled sobs lurking behind perky tone of 9 Holes with...Tom Pernice Junior? Cheer up, dear writers; some of us can spot diamonds in the fluff. While persuing U.S. Airway's glossy, creatively titled U.S. Airways Magazine, I came across this.  King of Clubs is a Las Vegas-based company whose noble goal is to extend temporary fame, and all its sundry accoutrements, to all of us unfortunate pleebs. For a mere starting fee of $1,500, you can make "everyone standing in line wonder 'Who is that?'," thanks to a coterie that includes bodyguards, a personal assistant, and, of course, faux paparazzi. According to one Janine Theiss, the sister of the King of Clubs founder Johnny Theiss, the experience is "very cool, but I couldn't live a life like that." One hour of flashbulbs and she's throwing in the towel? Luckily we New Yorkers are made of eco-friendly teflon, so when cometh our satellite?