Fame! I'm gonna live....

...well, not quite forever, since I'm not famous, but for a very long time if the longevity rubs off at all.

This post inspired by this over at Foolery.

Let's see...I suppose I could go all the way back to the first encounter I had with celebrity, although I don't remember it at all. Remember Sha-na-na? That fifties style musice show on TV? There was the guy on the end, the big fellow with the beard - not Bowser!! - you know? Well, he used to hang out at Alley's General Store in West Tisbury, Mass (yes, that's as small as it sounds), on Martha's Vineyard (before it was all cool and full of the famous, the rich, and the annoying). He would sit out on the front porch and shoot the breeze with the locals, and I would sit on his lap and tug his beard. Good thing I was a wee little mite. If I tried that today, I might hurt him! I think he still lives out there, but I'm not certain.

I went to the same high school as Ryan Seacrest, although I was there first and graduated before he did, thank the gods!! Greg Louganis was there before me, so I was a sort of nobody sandwich. I'm good with that.

Hmm...in no particular order I've met the following people at the track - where I saw them as race car drivers who occasionally needed to be fished out of a tire wall, gravel pit, or the woods:

Paul Newman, in passing - a man whose privacy is deeply respected at our track. We don't advertise when he's there - the man needs a break, people!

Tom Cruise. Meh.

Patrick Dempsey - Nicest actor ever!! I'm not just saying that because he was sweet enough to interrupt his racing school to hold my fat little baby for a picture, and then stand next to me (uphill so he looked taller because we are the same height and I can look him right in the eye, wow) for a shot or two. He also bought a Panoz, manufactured right here in our little patch of dirt. This is the only famous type person I ever made an effort to have a picture with. Most of the time, I'll shake hands or say hello and let them be. Like I said, at the track they are drivers, and they're only famous if they win.

Borris Said - if you don't know who he is, that's OK. He owes me ten bucks, and I am milking that for all it's worth (I sewed the patches on his driver's suit and he never paid me. I didn't mind, and really still don't - I did it for all the drivers who didn't have wives, girlfriends, or duct tape)(And yes, that's sexist, but folks? It's auto racing, still largely a men's sport...and I never once had Lynn St. James or Linda Sharp ask me for the service). If you and I ever meet in person, ask me about the hood ornament on his semi/car hauler. He's a racer who started out road racing but recently got into NASCAR, where they continually change the rules so he can't win. There, I said it NASCAR, what are you going to do about it? Pansy ass circle jerks are afraid to give a real racer a fair shake at it, because they know he'll kick their collective asses.*

I'm pretty sure I met a pro-wrestler once at the IHOP on Roswell road, but I pretended not to know who he was, because really? Is it too much to ask that a fellow be allowed some peace with his pancakes??

Dorsey Schroeder - Another racer, and he's as cute as a button. He hangs out with corner workers because we have the best most beer. He can have my share, I'm allergic.

Honestly, if they've driven a race car and been to Road Atlanta in the last twenty years, I bet I've at least waved a flag at them. When the Evil Genius is grown a bit more and can wander about on his own without giving me heart failure (OK, I know that may never happen), I will go back to it...unless I can finally talk them into letting me have the communications tower instead, because I really am a special kind of crazy.

Those are the folks I've met you may have heard of. I've met a few authors, musicians, and community leaders in the pagan world, but most folks out here in mundania wouldn't know who I was talking about. It's a small pond...and no matter how big the fish, it's still a very small pond. Hell, I'm halfway famous in that world, which tells you how small it is!!

Oh, and some close calls - Christopher Reeves, hung out on Martha's Vineyard in some of the same circles as my family. I never met him, but almost...

Jimmy Buffett - can you imagine? He went to some of the same parties as my Dad and Stepmum, and one evening they tried to talk me into going with them and singing for him. Singing for him!! Really, thanks for the faith and all, but...umm...HELL NO!!! Jimmy Freakin' Buffett??? This isn't a family party where "I'm A Little Teapot" is a smash hit! Not in this lifetime. I would have just died, I know it. I stayed home and whittled radishes, and everyone was better off.

My brother once mowed Carly Simon's lawn. The grass out front of her house, you pervs!! Nice lady, rotten daughter (at the time).

My stepmum was a lifeguard at the beach where they filmed JAWS. Yep.

That about does it, I guess. Not very impressive, is it?? Oh, well...if I'd been willing to put myself forward I could have met many more famous people at the track - but I just hate imposing on people who are simply out to have a nice time at the races. The same goes for people trying to ear dinner, buy clothing, get a pedicure, or breathe. Seems like there's never really a time I feel it appropriate to get all "fan girl" on someone. C'est la vie.

*Don't get your panties in a wad, I actually like NASCAR, but there have been a few last minute policy changes in the recent past that screwed Borris out of a start, and that's just wrong.