Hey starfuckers! Who would have thought we’d see more fah-moose people in NYC than a month in Los Angeles? Here’s how it works: Tessa and I end up next to – or in the vicinity of – famous person. Being from Eastern Iowa and the South, I still believe in the magic of movies and entertainment and haven’t been jaded by decades of celebrity. Thus I start wagging my tail like a Labrador puppy.
I nudge Tessa and say “hey, isn’t that [insert famous person here]? She says “no, it’s [insert another famous person here], what the hell is wrong with you?” I tell her to talk to the famous person, because Tessa is always one degree of separation away from all of them, and I’m usually about three.
She tells me to quit bugging her, so I go up to Famous Person and say, “aren’t you [insert first name here]? My wife knows [insert other name here] and she said you were awesome to work with.” Almost always, the celebrity is delighted to chat with any kind of inside pool (or theater gossip) and before long, they are playing with Lucy, and then Tessa comes over and she and the famous person talk about stuff. It’s awesome.
This has allowed me to meet several of my heroes from youth, as well as folks from movies whose lines I use every day. For instance, last night at The Caine Mutiny on Broadway (starring our fabulous Geoffrey Nauffts, I ended up sitting right next to Jeffrey Jones, known to you as Ferris Bueller’s principal.
Anyway, he has a line in “Beetlejuice” about Otho “viciously rearranging his environment” that pretty much defines Lucy wherever she goes, so we struck up a conversation with him, and eventually he and Tessa started talking about theater stuff. Score!
Earlier in the week, we were in Massachusetts buying baby food when Lauren Ambrose (Claire from “Six Feet Under”) ambles up to the bulk aisle and dispenses some oats. Five minutes later, she and Tessa are talking about the high school they both went to.
Oh, and later last night I slid against Bradley Cooper in the men’s room (I’m a huge “Alias” fan) and then we ALMOST thronged ourselves into Julia Roberts, whose play is up right next to “Caine Mutiny”.
Sean always makes fun of my little adventures in starfucking, and I admit it’s fun, but here’s my ground rules: I only talk to people when there’s an “in,” I only bother people if I’ve actually loved a specific thing (or piece of art) they’ve created, and if there is none of these things, I don’t even look at them as they pass out of respect to their privacy.
You know how many times Jeffrey Jones hears “there goes Ferris Bueller’s principal” whispered each time he passes a crowd? Think of how much worse it is for the truly famous. They don’t need someone else looking deep into their eyes in a frantic longing to see what makes them so ineffably special. I’m more than happy to embarrass myself in front of a private hero and let the A-list superstar glide by.