Wednesday, August 08, 2007

Brushes with (relative) fame OR: Thanks for the (almost) memories

The other day I was at the mall and I'm sitting down and this old guy starts talking to me. I guess it was because I had the Prince of Macrocrania with me and for some reason old people really dig babies. I imagine when I'm old I won't want to be around babies because they would remind me of the time I wasted when I was a baby not doing productive things. Well it turns out this guy was the dad of some famous PGA golfer guy and he was expecting me to know who his son was. I think it's kind of unfair to get in a pissing contest over how accomplished your children are with someone like me who's only got a baby. I'm thinking, well it's fantastic your son is a golfer but mine still pees on me. I HAD NO STORIES OF ACCOMPLISHMENTS! I think if I want a boost of self esteem I will hang around kindergartens and tell five year olds about my vast collection of Turkish porn.

That would be my second near brush with celebrity. The first was when I was working at Target back in El Paso in '95 and I met the mom of a girl who was dating Robbin Crosby, the guy who used to play guitar in RATT. She saw I was working in the music section and she needed help with something so we got to talking. I told her I liked RATT and playing guitar badly and she said Robin was teaching lessons. Sure enough, in the El Paso Times classifieds I found an ad Robbin put offering to teach people guitar. I never pursued it and a couple years later Robbin died and I felt dumb for having missed the opportunity to at least meet the guy. I saw a billboard for a RATT concert that's coming up around here in South Dakota and I almost started feeling sad but then I thought, "Wait! You can't almost feel sad about someone you never really met, dummy!"

2 comments:

Weasel said...

Does meeting a voice actor count? 'Cause I have a few stories. ::blushes and immediately shuts up::

Heavyarms said...

I watched the Bacchus parade in New Orleans once right next to Weird Al. And when I was on my honeymoon, I stood in line for an hour at Space Mountain with a guy that looked suspiciously like Dave Mustaine who later turned out to actually be Dave Mustaine.

 

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Evil King Macrocranios was voted king by the evil peoples of the Kingdom of Macrocrania. They listen to Iron Maiden all day and try to take pictures of ghosts with their webcams.