Oh, those girls. One goes out on the town without underwear, and the other stumbles around in only a bra and jeans. Amy Winehouse, despite appearances, is only 24; Britney Spears is only 26. I'll bet neither of them likes to being compared to the other.

I’d hate to have to lay odds on a complete recovery for either of them, but my hunch is that Amy Winehouse has the better chance of survival. My hope is that the intellect, insight and humor she brings to her lyrics will somehow help her through. My fear is that her downfall may be her lousy taste in men, and a lingering fallacy that drugs and/or booze is a creative muse.

I suppose Britney has talent and at least used to have drive and commitment, but to a large degree her career has been built on shock appeal. But her judgment is so far gone now that her behavior is just sad and sordid. Kissing Madonna on the mouth is maybe OK. Driving around drunk without a license, flashing your hoo-hoo at photographers, not OK. My slim hope for Britney is that there’s a Baptist Church somewhere in her home state of Louisiana that has a youth group praying full time for her recovery. Change that: I hope they’re dividing they’re prayers between Britney and her boys.

The latest I’ve heard on Amy Winehouse is that she met with officials at the American Embassy as part of the procedure to obtain a visa. The outcome will determine whether or not she’s able to attend the Grammys later this month. The meeting was scheduled sometime ago, and despite her ongoing stint in rehab, Amy still kept the appointment. Compared to Brit’s peek-a-boo appearances at custody hearings, you’ve got to give Amy some points.

I don’t know about you, but my mid-20s weren’t pretty. The bad choices I made during that stage of my life have forever ruled out any future I might have had for a career in politics or the FBI, or as a parent who could easily maintain eye contact during conversations about youthful experimentation.

Thank God I was never paparazzi worthy!