2005-01-22
I was supposed to go a-drinkin' and a-singin' with John Goodman - yeah, John Goodman - Thursday night at O'Leary's. He goes way back with the O'Learys giving them money to open up the place and all, and Jan told me that if she knew he was coming in that she'd give me a buzz so that I could meet him. Well, that call finally came in last week. He was in town because they were dedicating his high school auditorium to his old drama teacher and he was going to give a speech and shit.Well, me and mine stroll through the doors Thursday night ready to pony up to the bar and say hi to the man, but Jan informs me that he can't make it tonight.
ANDY: "What? Why?"
JAN: "Well, he's got a bad case of gout."
ANDY: "That's it?"
JAN: "Oh yeah, he gets it really bad."
BETCHA DIDN'T KNOW THAT!!!!!!! FEAST ON THAT CARCASS, TABLOID VULTURES!!!!!!!
Jan added that he might come back in tonight, so I'm gonna try again, but even if I don't meet him it's probably for the better. I don't have the world's best track record with my celebrity encounters. Remember how I always whine about how pretty girls make me say stupid things? I'm Alex Fucking Trebec with women compared to when I meet anybody remotely famous. Even meeting a relatively minor celebrity like author Dave Eggers turns me into friggin' Homsar.
Actually, Eggers was the most incident-free of my celebrity encounters. I handed him my copy of his book, managed to praise and not gush, he signed it, drew me a picture of a small nail, and sent me on my way. I wasn't so lucky with playwright Eric Bogosian, who upon receiving my copy of his play to be signed was informed how "great" he was in Under Seige 2: Dark Territory. He smiled, but his smile said, "Thank you for digging up that dirt. No. Really. I've been waiting all these years just for some dipshit undergrad to come along with a shovel. We are all richer because of you." I somehow came out of a brief encounter with the mayor of Peoria with a high five. While watching Jeepers Creepers 2 in the director's living room, I let out a fart that I'd been trying to cork for like half an hour and it was truly foul and I just know that Kevin Williamson caught a whif of it.
So what we can gather from these experiences is that a Goodman encounter will only end in disaster. Nevermind how wonderful he was in Barton Fink or how I grew up with him on Roseanne, I'll tell him something unspeakably flattering like how he WAS Fred Flintstone.
Ah well. Today before karaoke, I'm working on my MTV applications and watching the first 100 Strong Bad emails. On DVD, you ask? Oh, my goodness, yes.
Hey, you know what I never ever ever ever get tired of? You know what never fails to lift my spirits? This. It's only a start, but look. There I am. I'm the number seven search result for my own name! Woo! Movin' on up!
-Andy