I served coffee to Phillip Seymour Hoffman this past Tuesday. I didn't freak out or gush or get his autograph, because that would not have been professional. And by professional, I don't mean barista-wise, I mean acting-wise. Maybe that's a little pretentious of me. But he did look really tired. He got a triple espresso (in case you wanted to know), so he must have been.
(But yes, I blushed like a Catholic hooker, and yes, my hands shook the whole time. And he smiled and thanked me and left a tip. What a gentleman. I want to buy all of his movies.)
I was really geeked out, and continue to be, but it also reminded me that I got to meet Danny Glover in Kirksville almost three years ago. And when I was younger, I met the guy who played the older brother on The Wonder Years when he was signing autographs at the Target store.
Somehow, this reminiscence merged Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon with Andy Warhol's "Everyone will be famous for fifteen minutes, etc., etc." principle, which seemed ot me a stupid one anyway, because what did he mean by "fame"? Did he mean local fame, or national, or international fame, or somewhere in the middle? How many people would have to hear of them to constitute "fame"? Does posthumous fame count? Did he even bother to take into account that technology could get so wide-reaching and specialized that socitety might eventually fragment into as many individualized demographics as there are people themselves, each person choosing only what he or she wanted to see and hear and consume in their own private Idahos?
Therefore, I conceived a much more plausible, easy-to measure postulate. Each person in the world will have at least fifteen minutes of meeting someone famous. It counts if you are chatting in the grocery line with Bill Gates for five minutes, take a minute to get Scott Baio's autograph, and spend ten glorius minute sharing a cab with Danny Elfman on the luckiest night of your life. Maybe not the best one of his. My point is, it can conglomerate if needed. If you happen to be famous yourself, great. Not only will your work be taken care of, but then you can spread the joy of meeting someone famous to others.
Fifteen minutes at a time.
Saturday, February 9, 2008
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1 comment:
I would have wept like a child behind an enormous pile of espresso beans. Way to keep it mega cool (which incidently is how I firmly believe it should be kept with all famous to mildly famous people)! Jeez, the only way that could have been more awesome is if Paul Giamatti walked in afterwards and requested a high five and 2 chocolate chip cookies and then GAVE you one of those cookies...deluxe!
Also, let it be known that I dearly love reading your thoughts on all manner of things. Kudos to an online journal that is more than a list of what someone ate/did at work.
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