How to meet famous people
Posted: November 11th, 2008 | Filed under: Bruce, Media, Other Sports, Pop Culture | 67 Comments »
A Herb Score retrospective is coming at some point. RIP Herb. In the meantime, here’s a bit of my life.
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So, last night, I got to meet the writer Dave Eggers. I’m pretty well blown away by Dave Eggers. I almost included him in the acknowledgments section of my Buck O’Neil book, The Soul of Baseball (only $5.99) even though, if you want to get technical, I had never actually met him, and he had nothing whatsoever to do with the book. I just wanted to, you know, acknowledge him. (I acknowledged Ben Folds instead, having never met him either).
It isn’t only that I admire Dave as a writer — though, of course, I do, with Heartbreaking Work, What is the What, the McSweeney’s Kingdom and so on — but I admire him even more as someone who gets stuff done, a guy who writes, edits, cartoons, a guy who has spent so much of his time working with literacy, with young writers, with public schools, with Sudanese refugees, with pirate stuff. He has founded, best I can tell, about 19,000 different magazines and charitable organization.
He also was the key guy behind “The Jump†section in ESPN the Magazine.
This came up, briefly. He somehow figured out that I’m a sportswriter — I can only imagine that an assistant mentioned this since I, as will become apparent, did not — and in an kind effort to connect mentioned his early work with ESPN the Magazine. This was a highlight of the conversation because, quite honestly, I suck at these encounters*.
*OK, it’s 5 a.m. in the Oakland Airport — yeah, 5 a.m., this is what I’m going through so I could meet Dave Eggers — and I am staring straight at one of those little mini-airport billboards for something called “Laser Eye Center of Silicon Valley.†The Laser Eye’s spokesman of choice? Oakland Raiders quarterback JaMarcus Russell.
The billboard reads: “Best Arm, Best Vision. JaMarcus can throw 80 yards with accuracy. Dr. Gary Kawesch enhanced Jamarcus’ vision in July 2007.â€
I have to wonder if, in retrospect, Dr. Gary and the good people at Laser Eye regret putting all their commercial faith in the church of Jamarcus Russell Accuracy. What’s he hitting these days, about 45 percent of his passes? I mean, the guy could overthrow Wyoming. I’m not saying they should have completely abandoned the whole JaMarcus sales strategy, I’m just thinking they could have toned down the accuracy part just a little bit, you know, maybe gone with something a little more subtle like, “Great Arm. Improved Vision. JaMarcus can throw 80 yards. And if you think he misses receivers now, you should have seen him BEFORE Dr. Gary Kawesch enhanced his vision. I mean, seriously, the guy was like almost blind. He kept calling Dr. Gary, ‘Al.’ At one point, he tried to eat one of our coasters because he mistook it for a delicious cinnamon bear claw. Believe us, it could have been a lot worse.â€
Truth is, I have absolutely no idea how to engage famous people in conversation. This is also true for semi-famous people and also, you know, not-famous-at-all people. Basically, I’m not all that great with strangers and real conversation. I mentioned here before that Margo and I have seen Paul Rudd around Kansas City — good to see Paul pounding Vince Vaughn in online polling — and she keeps insisting I go over and introduce myself, and I keep insisting that, no, I’m not going to do that. Because I’m not any good at that stuff.
She says: “But you’re a sportswriter. You meet famous people all the time.â€
This is true. What she fails to realize even after all these years is that I, like many journalists, have a very different persona when I’m working. Journalism is like an excuse, a personal freedom, to ask Tiger Woods directly what was going through his mind on the putt, to ask Peyton Manning why he keeps pointing at every defender in that goofy “I know you! I know you!†act he does before ever snap,* to ask Albert Pujols how got to be so awesome. I approach people in my job, generally speaking, because I HAVE to do that in order to do my job. I have always been a stand in the corner kind of person at parties. And, away from work, I still am.
To illustrate this in the clumsiest way possible: I have a sportswriter friend who — long story short — found himself chasing an unwilling and somewhat hostile interview subject through an airport. He had to get a comment from the subject, and for similar reasons, the subject had to get away without giving a comment. Both men were playing their roles — subject walking away and saying “no comment,†reporter battering him still with new questions. Finally the subject wheeled on him and pleaded, “You know I’m not going to answer your questions. Why do you keep bothering me?†The sportswriter pulled out his a photo of his family and said, “THIS is why I keep bothering you. To put food on the table for them!†Overstated? Yeah, maybe. But when you need a quote, man …
*The best quarterback pointing act I ever saw happened in Minnesota in 2003 when the Kansas City Chiefs started the year 9-0 despite having one of the most baffled defensive units in the history of professional football. The Chiefs won those first nine games because the offense scored a bajillion points — that was the year Priest Holmes scored 27 touchdowns. The defense was slapstick comedy. Anyway, in Minnesota, the Vikings were in a passing situation and then, the cornerback covering Randy Moss showed that he was blitzing. He showed WAY too early.
At this point, Daunte Culpepper stepped back from the center and pointed at Randy Moss. This wasn’t the vague Peyton Manning pointing either, no, this was very direct pointing, like: “Randy! I am pointing at you because I happened to noticed that your guy is going to blitz! So, when he blitzes I am going to throw you a bomb! Do you get it? You! I am throwing to you! Do you understand! Hold on, there’s a guy in Section 138 who is just getting back from getting a beer and he missed it. Randy! I am throwing to you! I am now pointing at your defender who is a moron. Now I am pointing back at you to make my point clear! Pointing back at him — this moron is blitzing. Pointing back at you — touchdown. OK?â€
At this point, of course, trained seals would know to call off the corner blitz, but the Chiefs did not have a trained seal as a defensive coordinator then. They had Greg Robinson. The blitz was called again, Culpepper dropped three steps, the corner came charging in, Culpepper threw a high and long pass to the end zone, Randy Moss ran under it and scored virtually uncovered. That was fun.
Point is, I’m terrible in real-life encounters with famous people. Sometimes, for bizarre reasons, I get interviewed, and I am sometimes asked the , “If you could have lunch with one person in history, who would it be?†question. I never know how to answer that. Other people come up with great responses, like they’ve really thought this one through. “Hmm, Napoleon? No, he would be reticent. Maybe Elvis..†Finally, they will come up with an impressive-sounding answer like “Copernicus†or “Marie Curie†or “Jesus.†What the heck would I say to Marie Curie? I mean, yeah, if I was doing a story on her, I suppose I could ask something like, “So, wow, what were you thinking when you did, like, all your pioneering work in radioactivity?†Or: “When you came up with new techniques for isolating radioactive isotopes, that was awesome.â€
But I suspect if I ever REALLY had a lunch conversation with a famous historical figure, it would go like this:
Me: So, um, this is a good bread, right?
Marie Curie: It is good, yes.
Me: Bad idea to fill up on the bread though.
Marie Curie: Yes.
Me (after long pause): So what are you ordering?
Marie Curie: The salmon, I think.
Me: Yeah, I like a good salmon.
Marie Curie: Right.
Me (after longer pause): I think I’m going with the chicken.
Marie Curie: Yes.
Me: Yeah. … So. This really is good bread.
Marie Curie: It is good, yes.
Me (panicking now after very long pause): So, um, why is it that elevators at hotels have the buttons on different sides? Um, you know, sometimes the buttons are on the right side of the elevator, and sometimes they are on the left, and you never know, It’s like a button surprise every time you get in an elavator. It’s like when you rent a car and you don’t know which side the gas tank is on? You know what I mean. And then you get on the elevator, and end up on the wrong side, you’re just looking at a blank wall, you know, and that’s just kind of embarrassing, and you have to ask the other person in the elevator to hit the button for your floor and, like, now you’re treating a stranger like he is the elevator guy from The Jeffersons, you know?
Marie Curie: I do not know.
Me: Yeah. I guess maybe that guy was actually the doorman on the Jeffersons.
Marie Curie: I do know know what you mean.
Me: You know, the guy who always wanted to get a tip and George Jefferson kept slamming the door in his face.
Marie Curie: I have never seen The Jeffersons. I have been busy winning two Nobel Prizes and being the first female professor at the University of Paris.
Me: Yeah, I guess so. Sorry.
Marie Curie: I am not at all certain why you chose me as your lunchtime historical figure.
Me: Yeah, that was probably a mistake. I’m giving you that.
Marie Curie: You were trying to impress the questioner, I suppose.
Me: Um, yeah.
Marie Curie: You had to look up the isotopes joke above, didn’t you?
Me (embarrassed): Yeah. Wikipedia. That’s where I got the University of Paris bit too.
Marie Curie: I thought so.
Me (after about 20 minute pause): So, this is really good bread.
The conversation with Dave Eggers did not go quite this awkwardly but that was because I was with my buddy Pop Warner, a big-time music executive and all, and so he more or less grabbed the conversation and steered it through the various icebergs. Pops, being an executive and salesman and all, knows how to keep a conversation moving. This guy can get farm animals to download Missy Higgins music. Anyway, the two of them got into a fairly interesting conversation about the future of music delivery and what role short films play in the new media age, and the only real part I played (after the epic, “I worked at ESPN,†portion of the conversation) came somewhat toward the end when my buddy talked about Rhapsody.
Dave Eggers said: “See, I don’t know what Rhapsody is.†Seems that Dave — and I would not have expected this — has sort of stripped down his life as far as technology goes. He said he does not have Internet at his home, for example. I don’t know, this just cut against my image of him*. I figured he would be mega-plugged in. Anyway, after saying he did not know what Rhapsody was, Dave then gave me an opening to participate in the conversation, which as you will see, I boldly and aggressively accepted.
Dave: See, I don’t know what Rhapsody is. (Turned to me). Do you know what Rhapsody is?
Me: Kind of. I’m not entirely sure how it works …
Dave: So, good, I’m glad I’m not the only one who doesn’t know what Rhapsody is
In other words, I was able to play the, “See, this guy is dumb too,†role in the conversation. And I was proud to do it.
*Speaking of something that cuts against image, I’ve become utterly fascinated by the Mac/PC commercial. The reason I was able to meet Dave Eggers is that I went to see a fundraiser in San Francisco that featured a conversation between him and John Hodgman, the writer who plays PC in those commercials. An actor by the name of Justin Long plays Mac in those commercials.
The commercials have become fascinating to me because, basically, the Mac/PC commercial seem an almost perfect example of perception running counter to reality. We are all so driven by these perceptions, by how something looks rather than how something actually is. You see it in sports all the time. First basemen, even if they can’t hit with power, will often bat third in the lineup because they are first basemen (the Mark Grace effect). Quarterbacks who are big and strong and have great arms but cannot especially play football are often drafted very high because they are big, strong and have great arms. And so on. And so on.
You know the commercial: Hodgman plays PC as a sort of stodgy, aging, outdated, uncool character. And Long plays Mac as a young, cool, hip, with it character. The truth is, though, that Hodgman is actually the funny writer who does cutting edge stuff, the guy who blogs, the guy on the Daily Show, the guy who USES a Mac. Hodgman is MUCH more like the imagine of what Mac really wants to be. And Long, from what I can tell (via Wikipedia!) is a guy who comes from a very conservative family, who knows nothing at all about computers, who plays in movies like The Sasquatch Dumpling Gang. I suspect that’s more of the image of PC.
Long did date Drew Barrymore, however. And he was the voice of Alvin in “Alvin and the Chipmunks.†For what that’s worth.
I should say here that this inability to speak to people I greatly admire is not exactly nervousness. I don’t really get nervous talking to people anymore. The last time I REALLY got nervous talking to anyone was probably 20 years ago, when I met Bob Costas (and don’t worry, I won’t tell that story again). The crazy job I do has put me in position to talk to extraordinarily famous people, you know, like Dick Vitale*. Oh yeah, I can handle fame.
No, I would say my issue with talking to famous people is more about my relative inability to do small talk — THAT is an artform, my friends — and my general reluctance to bother people. When in conversation with Dave Eggers, my mind is at all times asking one simple question: “Would Dave Eggers rather be sitting here talking to me … or would he rather be somewhere else, like with his family or with his friends or in the bathroom or watching a ballgame or making meaningful small talk with someone who is rich and famous and could actually help him raise money for one of the 878 worthy causes that he so generously supports?†My mind is not fooled. He would rather be somewhere else. He seems like a very nice guy. And he would rather be somewhere else. And really the best thing I could do here is let him go be somewhere else.
*OK, I kid Dick Vitale — who I like very much, in fact. But I do have to share this one story with you because, not to name drop again, but I once was the master of ceremonies of a program that featured Dick. And he sat next to my wife Margo and me all during dinner, and he was wonderful, charming, told stories, made my wife feel like a million bucks. Later he sent us a package with all of the books he had written — just the postage on that package had to be $418 — so, I’m not kidding when I tell you that Dick Vitale is one hell of a guy.
But this was kind of funny and gives you a sense of the different lives we lead. At one point, he started talking about how much traveling wears on him. (I am writing this now from the middle seat on a Southwest flight so, yeah, I get it). And then he said to me: “Listen, let me give you some advice, it’s the best advice I ever got.â€
The best advice Dick Vitale ever got. This had to be good. Treat others as you would like to be treated? Live life to the fullest? The show must go on? Dance like nobody’s watching? Never try to take a charge under the basket unless you play for Duke? What could it be?
And he said this: “Get yourself a private plane.â€
Yeah, that sort of came out of nowhere. But, really, this was his advice. Get yourself a private plane. And then he continued by explaining: “See, it’s worth it. Let’s say … let’s just say, for argument’s sake, that I am getting $30,000 to be here tonight. Let’s just say that’s the number. So, you know, for a couple of hours airtime it costs me, what, $5,000? (Here I nodded — that seemed a fair figure). That’s at most. So I’m clearing $25,000 and I’m sleeping in my own bed tonight!â€
Sure. Win-win. You know, I don’t really know what he said after the “Let’s just say I’m getting $30,000 to be here tonight†part of the conversation. Because to be the MC that night I was getting paid … a coupon to get a pair of pants. And I was darned happy to be getting those pants. Most of the time, I get coffee mugs when I speak. And frankly, I’ve heard myself speak, I don’t even deserve the coffee mugs. The thing is, Vitale was being very sincere and fatherly when he recommended the private jet; he thought he was giving me pretty solid advice. Sometimes, now, when I go on trips I will say to Margo, “So what do you think, private jet?†She will suggest sticking with the dented Altima.
So, anyway, the Dave Eggers conversation went really well. No, I didn’t really get to tell him how much I admire his work , didn’t happen to mention that I specifically came to San Francisco to meet him, didn’t talk to him about world events or get any great details or gossip about all the writers and famous people he knows, didn’t ask for advice how to start our own literacy charity that Margo and I have been working on for a couple of years, didn’t talk to him what comes next, didn’t really accomplish much of anything. I did tell him that I only had only a vague sense of what Rhapsody is, though. I figured that will stick with him.
And I left with the solace that if it had been Bruce Springsteen, I would have been even worse.
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This line “Would Dave Eggers rather be sitting here talking to me … or with his friends or in the bathroom or watching a ballgame”
takes on a whole new meaning if your brain somehow skips the “or” parts of the sentence.
I started thinking Dave Eggers was some crazy genius. Which he may be, but for other reasons.
Drew, you are the reason people are poking their heads over my cubicle wall trying to determine what cause the ridiculous cackle. Thanks, bud.
I have a similar story involving a writer I admire. You. My wife and I go to many book signings, and I genereally don’t have much too say. Recently when we saw Cal Ripken I think I may have mentioned that he is tall. As if he hadn’t realized this already. I did get Tony Gwynn to sign a book saying that the “Cardinals suck.” I had to promise not to show it to anyone.
The second time I met Alton Brown I brought my kid with me who at five years old is better at small talk than I am. I believe he said, “Hey we’ve seen you on TV.”
I don’t think I said anything to Toni Morrison when we met her. (That by the way is name dropping. We’re talking Nobel Prize.)
However, when I met you at a book sign for Soul of Baseball at the St. Louis County Library, I managed to say absolutely nothing. I had brought my wife with me and I had been commenting on how tolerent your wife must be because you always seem to be writing. I couldn’t figure out how you manage to do anything else. We talked about how we had met Buck one day at the NLBM. I told her how much I enjoy your writing even about sports that don’t interest me. I had a million things to say and the only thing I manage to say was “Thanks” when you complimented my Monarchs hat.
My wife try to start a conversation about how prolific a writer you are and as I recall I kind of shuffled off to the side to let you sign the next book.
I knew for certain that there was probably a million things that you would rather be doing than sitting in a local library signing a book and talking to a dumbstruck doofus.
By the way my wife and I thouroughly enjoyed the book and since we are high school teachers push it on every student that we have. I even bought 6 copies for my classroom library.
…But the real question is, did Jonathan Coulton perform there?
Roy Blount, Jr. did a column for Esquire a couple decades ago called “Famous People I have Known.” It was — like this blog entry — quite funny and touching. Now I gotta spend my afternoon trying to find that essay somewhere to see if it’s as good as I remember it.
Thanks, Joe!
I have noticed over the years that one very effective way to engage famous people is to be a hot girl under the age of 26.
Remarkably, this tactic seems to be effective whether the person in question is famous in the field of sports, the arts, politics, business, or anything else one can be famous for.
Maybe you should have tried this, Joe. File this strategy away for next time!
I got asked which 3 people living or dead I would like to have dinner with at a job interview this summer. Bill James immediately came to mind, but I realized after spending a couple of minutes exactly who he was, that it was better to stick to the Marie Curie type answers.
I left an important “explaining” out of the last comment.
The opposite has happened to me – as a soccer writer, I’ve interviewed David Beckham w/o any qualms. But, God forbid, I have to interview the players on my school’s college soccer team.
“Um, so um, how long have you been playing soccer for?”
(Insert answer)
“Really? That’s awesome…so okay, you’ve been playing soccer for that long. Why do keep playing? Is it because you love it?”
It’s bad.
I hate small talk too . . .
I’ll be over here in the corner.
Do you think Ben Folds is a good poker player?
Marie Curie would probably point out that the gas gauge in every rental car has an arrow that tells you what side of the car the tank is on.
However, she would probably do so in French, which would substantially limit the utility of her assistance.
Perhaps you could ask her if her favorite Triple A baseball team is in Albuquerque.
I just had a very similar experience with (of all people) John Hodgeman last weekend at Wordstock in Portland OR. While standing in line for the booksigning you could see/hear the interaction between Hodgeman and us lowly fans- some people had interesting questions and other people had witty little remarks that made him laugh, but as we got closer I realized that I had NOTHING TO SAY. I told my fiancé that I was about to go in there and bomb- that I was furiously wracking my brain and it wasn’t doing me a lick of good- I had NOTHING. Sure enough we got up there and I sputtered some random mumbles and got the hell out of there as fast as I could. I’m usually an outgoing, class clown type and it kills me that the celebrity thing shuts me down, but what can you do? I drew a big fat blank. Such is life.
Apparently Joe uses tapes of the ‘Chris Farley Show’ sketch from SNL to prep for these encounters. You remember when you were in the Beatles? That was awesome…
This whole conversation reminded me of one of my favorite Chris Farley bits:
http://www.hulu.com/watch/4186/saturday-night-live-the-chris-farley-show
I was at a Royals game a few years ago, a doubleheader against the Tigers. Before the start of the first game I left my seat to get a beer, and when I came back, Bill James and his wife were seated in the row behind me.
I sat there wondering if I should say anything to him. I went back and forth between “He’s a celebrity. He’s used to people wanting to talk to him.” and “He’s not the kind of celebrity that everyone recognizes. He probably just wants to watch the game and not be bothered.”
Finally I decided to say hello.
Me: “Mr. James, I’m a big fan. I don’t mean to bother you but I would just kick myself if I didn’t introduce myself and say ‘hello’”
Handshake and awkward pause…
Bill James: “And your name is?”
Really uncomfortable pause, at which point I’m sure Mr. James is wondering how I got away from the rest of my group from the special school…
Me: “Phil?”
I am all kinds of sophisticated.
Later in the game we discussed the humor in the Royals having both Denny Hocking and Joe McEwing on the roster.
One of my few encounters with a celebrity is when I incoherently shouted “Day-o!†at Harry Belafonte before the 1992 inauguration because I couldn’t remember his name. Harry, if you’re reading this (and why wouldn’t you?) and you remember the drunk guy who yelled at you, I’m sorry about that.
Sometimes it’s better to freeze up and mumble.
You’re being a bit harsh on Justin Long, no? He’s got 8 movies coming out in the next two years, so I’d call him a bit more than “the guy who played in ‘The Sasquatch Dumpling Gang.’”
I thought he was pretty good in Die Hard. And he played the “I just got hit in the nuts with a ball/wrench/chair/ukelele/displaced Peruvian child” part in Dodgeball pretty well.
The funniest thing in those commercials is that PC is saying “Well, they bought a big advertising campaign rather than spend the money on fixing Vista.”
Because, you know, those PC/Mac ads are free.
That said, PC/Mac >>>>>>>>>>>>>> Microsoft’s “I’m a PC” junk. And those Gates/Seinfeld ads should rightfully cause their writer and producer and everyone ever involved with them to be Jimmy Hoffa’d.
I got asked which 3 people living or dead I would like to have dinner with at a job interview this summer.
Get up and get out. These are the kinds of companies run by absolute idiots in HR that think that this sort of crap is somehow relevant to the job you are applying for.
I’ve walked out of an interview because the HR …. ‘lady’ (I’ll refrain from using the word I really wanted to use) wanted me to go into the other room where a PALM READER (I kid you not, one of those kooks that ‘predicts your future’) was going to give me a reading to see if I was suitable for the job.
I gave the manager who was sitting there too a withering glance, and he gave this apologetic little nod as I walked out of the room while the HR … ‘lady’ kept stammering and stuttering, trying to figure out what I was doing.
great writing as usual. but i’m still amazed how readable the comments are.
there’s a trailer out for the movie Frost/Nixon by ron howard. in it, sam rockwell’s character talks about how awful richard nixon was. about how he ruined the country. about how he’s going to stick it to him when he means him. so he finally gets introduced to Nixon and he replies “Mr. President.”
Wasn’t Justin Long in Jeepers Creepers?
I just hope that one day when, God willing, I get the chance to meet you, you will remember this while I stand there unable to speak until I mumble some random question about the Royals or Orioles and wander off.
I’m the same way. Put me in a sportswriting situation, and I’m fine. Tiger Woods, Wayne Gretzky, Michael Jordan, Neifi Perez – none of them fazed me a bit.
I didn’t even blink when Ron Artest when was punching fans 10 feet away from me, or when Tim Duncan and two security guards ran me down on national TV.
(Of course, the latter one was probably the single moment that more of my friends have spotted me on TV than any other. “Dude, Tim Duncan just blew you off on national TV on Christmas, and his security guards flicked you out of the way like a bug!”)
(I might have blinked when I asked Mike Tyson why he was on Prozac and he said “To keep from killing *expletives* like you,” but he was 3,000 miles away on a teleconference, so I felt vaguely safe.)
However, I am utterly unable to have a conversation with a stranger that isn’t an athlete, and I just babble when confronted with any kind of person of renown.
I didn’t have any trouble talking to you, mainly because I felt we had a common bond in the Royals. So many of their great moments have happened in Detroit – the season-ending sweep in 2006 that cost the Tigers the division and cost the Royals David Price, the doubleheader where the Royals scored 26 runs in the first game and got shut out in the second, the day that Tony Muser said doubles were better than home runs…
A Missy Higgins reference?! Joe, you are officially my hero.
just wanted to point out that on a lot of newer cars, there is a little arrow on the gas guage that points to the side the gas tank is on.
i have one on my car. it’s the greatest invention of all time
If you want to know which side the gas tank is on, there is a little arrow on the dash board right next to the gas tank logo that points to the side of the car it is on. I just learned this, but I have yet to get in a rental car that did not have the arrow next to the logo pointing to the side of the car that the tank is on.
Sounds like the next poll question has been posed. If you could have lunch with 3 famous people, who would they be?
1. MLK Jr- After last week, he’d be extremely entertaining. Right?
2. Buck O’ Neill- same as above (with a little brown nosing of the author of this fine blog)
3. Ken Tremendous- If Buck or MLK ever ran out of things to say, KT would surely have something.
” If you want to know which side the gas tank is on, there is a little arrow on the dash board right next to the gas tank logo that points to the side of the car it is on. I just learned this, but I have yet to get in a rental car that did not have the arrow next to the logo pointing to the side of the car that the tank is on.”
If there isn’t an arrow you can tell by which side the handle is on the icon. Most Manufacturers will even align both of them, but sometimes they won’t (which is silly) in which case the arrow always wins.
Wasn’t Justin Long in Jeepers Creepers?
Yes. And he’s in Zach and Miri Make a Porno, playing a gay porn star. I will not make a “hard drive” joke here.
Lunch with three people? Bugs Bunny, Michael Palin and Nature Boy Ric Flair.
The lunch of dreams: Groucho, Zeppo, and Harpo. OK, maybe substitute Will Rogers for Harpo.
Yeah, I’m pretty bad with famous people. Luckily, I have met famous people twice in my entire life (and one is definitely more famous than the other), so I haven’t done too badly, mostly for lack of opportunity.
The people in question are Nomar Garciaparra (who was with Mia Hamm) and Jim Butcher. Jim Butcher is a little more straightforward – I love his books, so I went to a book signing and was (as expected) entertained by his talk, as he is very clearly a gigantic nerd like I am. I actually got him to laugh once or twice during the Q&A, and I was feeling pretty good about the whole thing. Then it came to actually getting my book signed, and I babbled out something horribly fanboyish and made an ass out of myself. Good times indeed.
Nomar I did a little better with. I actually ran into him at, of all places, a Dallas airport bookstore (which is, I guess, a possible benefit of traveling – you never know what random person you’re going to meet. Of course, I’ve never had anything like this happen ever again). I was standing there browsing a book on the 2004 Red Sox (I am a huge Sox fan), and I look to my left and there are Nomar and Mia, also browsing the bookshelves. I managed to contain my shock and compose myself for a minute, which probably saved me some embarrassment, and then very calmly said “Nomar?” I thanked him for his time with the Red Sox, shook his hand, said good luck to Mia on her retirement, and basically ran away.
If I had to pick three people… let’s see. I like Wade’s pick of Michael Schur (Ken Tremendous) – I’m a huge Office fan, love FJM, and we’re both Red Sox fans, so I’m sure we could get into some good baseball-related conversation. I’d also have to pick John Cleese, for being my favorite comedian of all time – he’d say something funny, and we could at the very least talk about the ridiculous nature of Sarah Palin. And since this is a sports blog, let’s pick an actual player for my third choice… I’d have to go with Ted Williams for that. Not that I’d have anything to contribute, but the die-hard Sox fan in me would love to hear him talk about hitting for hours on end.
my three:
Ben Franklin
Gloria Gaither
Milton Friedman
My three:
Dave Eggers
Bruce Springsteen
Joe Posnanski
Just so I could see Joe sit through an entire lunch without saying a word and then read the blog post that followed. That’s funny to me.
I hate to kneecap a possible poll, but there will never, ever, never, ever be a superior answer than David Letterman naming the five people from history he would choose to eat dinner with: “Harmon Killebrew and the Ink Spots.”
The real question we should confront is:
If all of the people bad at small talk go to the corner of the party, do we awkwardly stare at each other? Or do we skip small talk and have some profound conversation?
I usually end up in conversations with strangers that are way too profound for the situation (Talking religion at a bar, explaining why I am afraid every time Chiefs lead going into the 4th (Like before the Mexicutioner came along and the Royals had a lead after 8), anything political at any time). It might be better to freeze up.
I picked Ben Franklin during my interview, but that was only because I felt I needed to do damage control after the Bill James debacle, and Ben Franklin is like the stock answer to that question.
My 3:
Bill James
Daniel Webster
Churchill
Joe would have taken Churchill’s spot, but after reading this post I changed my mind. Daniel Webster wouldn’t be able to handle bad small talk.
Great work as always, Joe. I’m reminded of something Bill Simmons wrote about meeting your hero. He basically said that to you, they mean a lot…to them you mean nothing: you’re an inconvenience. Its just the natural outcome of celebrity in our society. There’s nothing you can say to them, they just want to get back to what they were doing.
I got to meet Francis Ford Coppola a couple of years ago. I wanted to say so many things to him about the Godfather films and his career. Here stood an icon of American film, what to say? I remembered Simmons’ words and just asked politely for a picture, nothing more. I do wish I’d asked him how and when Fredo let Johnny Ola’s men onto the Corleone compound in Godfather II.
This topic is great! I’m one of those who are missing the ‘Small Talk’ gene. Thankfully my wife has it in spades so when we meet new people, she does most of the heavy lifting. They walk away thinking we’re both nice, based on her personality alone.
The problem comes of course when I’m by myself. I enjoy reading so I’ve been to a good number of book-signings. Invariably when I approach the author in question, my brain freezes up and I end up staring uncomfortably at him/her. Thankfully stalkers never show up at these sorts of things so I’m sure the authors aren’t uncomfortable at all….
So if I went to a Joe the Posnanski book signing, would we end up participating in an impromptu staring contest?
- My grandfather
- My other grandfather
- Jackie Robinson
Harpo is an EXCELLENT one. The first guy I thought of was Groucho Marx, the second was John Lennon, but then I realized Yoko would be coming along. Nothing doing.
I barely say anything to people I know, nevermind a famous person. Years ago, I was going into a movie theater a few people back from Jerry Seinfeld and his smokin’ hot GWU girlfriend. I mumbled his presence to my girlfriend, and she was poking me to say something since they were just a few rows ahead of us, but all I could think of to say was something patently insulting like “damn, your head is big, could you move someplace else”, or “good thing you learned your craft, I remember a couple of times on Merv Griffin, where I figured you must be a producer’s son-in-law or something”. Of course, what I ended up saying to her what was going on in my head was too much like an EPISODE of Seinfeld to actually instigate contact.
I’ll admit I’m on a Phillies high at the moment:
1. Mike Schmidt
2. Matt Stairs
3. Tim O’Brien
Thomas Jefferson, Bobby Kennedy, Jesus of Nazareth
The lunch would be at TGI Friday’s.
No, it would have to be someplace spectacular, and since this is the realm of fantasy it would be at Windows on the World in the WTC.
Justin Long plays an adequate straight man to other, funnier actors and actresses. He is insufferable in that absolutely insufferable ad campaign.
And Joe makes an excellent point. Jon Hodgman is one of the most interesting, intelligent entertainers out there today. Justin Long is adequate at looking bewildered or mopey or bored or shocked.
Wow, Joe. That Marie Curie thing was awful. Another swing and a miss.
While I don’t attend as many booksignings as I used to (and I rarely say anything when there, except, “I like your stuff,” if I do) many years ago I was in line at a John Fowles signing in Oxford, England. This was after Daniel Martin came out, and he was also selling a revised Magus. Now I thought at that time he was a glorious writer (now I think he’s a very good author who wrote one glorious book) and I was eager to see him. The guy in front of me was an Oxford don, the tall, graying, tweedy 50 year old type who loves himself more than anything else on earth. There were two young female students fawning on him, eagerly lapping up every pompous utterance. Which was sort of like this, “Well, I’m eager to chat with John, he’s interested in Middle Eastern literature, and I’m somewhat of an expert. Oh yes, I’ve sent him a book I’d like some feedback on, and maybe some help. Been working on it for years, bit of an esoteric study, of course, but quite fascinating stuff in its own way. He’s quite an astute critic as well as fine writer, and though I probably know more about this than he does, I’d like his input, and maybe we can collaborate. Yes, John is quite a scholar, a fellow who knows not only his subject, but his way around publishing.” Oohs and aahs, and lots of excited praise came from the gals, basking in the glow of proximity to a man who knew more than John Fowles, and I saw why, up close and way too personal, people want to teach college. The line was long, and I got to listen to this drivel for quite a while, until as we got closer, the girls drifted away. (Shows how dumb they were–those books cost about 7 bucks then and I’ve seen them selling for over $100.) Finally it’s Tweedy-bird’s chance to chat with John. “Umm, uh, Mr., uh, Mr. Fowles, uh, well….I once sent you, ummm, a, uhhh, a, a manuscript…” “Oh really, about what?” “Well, about [provide name I didn't recognize and don't remember] and uh, well, uh, I uh….well, I wondered if you had, ummmm, read it.” “No, I haven’t, don’t remember it, but I get a lot of manuscripts; I’ll take a look as soon as I return home.” “well, uhh, I’d be grateful, uhh, thanks.” And never even told him his name!
Bob Dylan
Bertrand Russell
Tommy Chong
I met Roger Angell at a book signing a few years ago. In the end, all I had to say to him was, “Thanks.”
(During the question-and-answer period, I asked via microphone what his favorite stadiums, current and deceased were. He was rather noncommittal, though I think the Polo Grounds did well.)
“Quarterbacks who are big and strong and have great arms but cannot especially play football are often drafted very high because they are big, strong and have great arms.”
Paging Josh Freeman.
Maybe what they’re saying about Russell is true. Maybe at 80 yards he is deadly accurate – it’s just the 79 yards before that he struggles with. I think the Raiders just need to spread out the offense more – have a RB screen passes set up 85 yards down the field. Yeah, it’ll be tough on the offensive line, but his 80+ yrd laser like accuracy might be his biggest strength.
I was 8 or 9 years old–attending a Blades game with my family. Several rows below us sat George Brett, Kevin Seitzer, and their wives(?). Every couple minutes a few kids, and the occasional adult, approached them requesting autographs, pictures, hugs, the collected wisdom of Charlie Lau, and the like.
So my Dad gives me his pen and a piece of scratch paper and says, “You should go down and meet George, but don’t get his autograph. Ask for his wife’s autograph instead.” And I did just that. George chuckled and said something to the effect of, “Here’s a kid that’s got it figured out.” I have no idea what I did with that autograph, but I’ll never forget the time that I made George Brett laugh.
That pales in comparison to the time that, during the last season at Old Comiskey, I met Double Duty Radcliffe. I was 11. He was sitting nearby and I noticed someone getting his autograph so I asked him if he was Minnie Minoso. He smiled wide, introduced himself, and proceeded to tell me exactly how he earned his moniker. I told him I was a catcher, too. I remember we talked quite a while and he explained to me the fundamental footwork involved in throwing down to 2nd.
Then there was the time Pauly Shore pulled up next to me at a stoplight in Hollywood. He had a huge German Shepherd in the passenger seat of his pea green convertible. My friend pointed him out to me and as he drove away I yelled the first thing that came to mind, “Hey Pauly, Nice Dog!” It now occurs to me that this story is replete with stinkiosity and should definitely be omitted, but I’m leaving it here anyway as a testament to the absurd nature of life.
I went to an ice cream social thrown by the Tigers’ wives in 2003. After trying to think of something to say to a bunch of Tigers who’d be surprised somebody would recognize them, I finally decided the best show of admiration I can manage for celebrities is to just leave them alone.
I figure if I think of something natural to say that doesn’t make me sound like a dingus, I’ll say it. But I’m not racking my brains to come up with something just to have said something.
I don’t know if you ever read this, but it’s so funny that you talk about the reporter persona because I have told people about that for years, about how I can interview, say, rock stars and be totally normal, even if I love their music, and yet if it were myself, I might like totally slobber all over myself or something.
But when I say it’s because I was being a reporter then, and people sort of look at me like I’m Sybil or something when I say that.
Jesus – I wouldn’t have to pay for the wine while getting the lowdown on what he was really about.
Fredrick Douglas – just to tell him how the world is today and what happened last Tuesday
Myself at 10 – so I can warn me about all the stupid things I was going to do in my life.
My three:
Barack Obama
Chuck Klosterman
Paul Rudd
I would totally have Joe in my top 10. Possibly even top 5.
I was in an elevator in of all places, the Holiday Inn in Beachwood OH, when all four members of Van Halen stepped in. Not knowing that the entire band Van Halen was going to get into the elevator, I played it cool, kind of like either I did not know who they were, or that this happens all the time to me. They were chatting about how, um how can I say, that there were more people over for breakfast in their rooms than there were when they left for the show the night before…if you get my drift, I thought I should have figured out something to say, but it happened so fast and we only traveled a few floors before we got to the ground level, it was one of those things where you ask yourself, ” did that just really happen?”
Never been a big dave eggers fan,but I can see the influence. But really Joe, you’re a thousand times better of a writer.
Correction: The Esquire piece called “Famous People I have Known” was by Ed McLanahan. The central figure was a B-list rock singer named Jimmy Sacca.
I take my 7 month pregnant wife to her first Royals game in August of 1999. The Royals are playing the Yankees and she is a big Derek Jeter fan. My wife has no idea about what kind of player he is but she thinks he is cute. My wife is so pregnant we get a free ride in a golf cart from one of the attendants. Anyways we make our way to our seats, which are about 5 rows behind the Yankees dugout. Sitting behind is a row of guys from Oklahoma State who are already a few beers into the game and very rowdy – I befriend them immediatly and we proceed to start hammering beers. Throughout the game we heckle the Yankees loudly and somewhat obnoxiously – but I never, nor did the other guys, used any profanity. I have been to Royals stadiums for a billion games and know that the quickest way to get kicked out is to yell profanity from the “good seats”. But we were excessively loud at times. The rest of the crowd was also pretty heated up – if I recall correctly, that was the summer when 810 rallied a bunch of folks to stage a walk out from the K in protest of our small market condition (for lack of a better phrase0 – maybe not, but regardless it was a less than tame crowd. We heckled Chuck Knoblauch the loudest – early in the game Knoblach tipped a pitch that barely trickled into fair territory and he did not run out the play. So the game goes on, the Yankees kick our ass and I get drunk – the whole time laughing it up with the guys behind me. After the game was over Roger Twibell, who at that time worked for the Yankees tv network was interviewing Chuck Knoblauch pretty much right in front of us. I let loose another loud salvo of less than coherent criticisms of Knoblauch, interrupting the interview. Knoblauch finally stands up and yells at me to shut up or something like that. Feeling satisfied that I got his attention and interrupted the interview I turned to leave. As I turned I ran into a large, older man, probably in his early 60’s. By large I mean tall – not fat. He introduced himself as Chuck Knoblauch’s uncle and informed me that he did not appreciate my berating his nephew in front of him and his wife. Now, I was full of beer mind you, and somewhat agitated as I tended to get back in those days when drunk, and in no mood to listen to some old dork give me a rash of crap about his nephew. I pushed him aside and told him something along the lines of “I paid for my seat I can say what I want.” Knoblauch’s uncle acted like he wanted to follow me but his wife grabbed him by the arm and told him to sit down. As I continued up the steps I saw my wife at the top of the section along the railing with a Royals attendant (whatever you call them) and two other attendants walking towards me – in a hurry. They grabbed me – not like I was getting arrested (a familiar feeling back then) but more like the Secret Service would grab the President to get him out of harms way. One of them said something like – “you need to get out of buddy.” We make it into the tunnel and into a golf cart and zoom out towards our car. As we were driving away I asked what was going on – it turns out that a group of younger (equally loaded) Yankees fans were waiting for me to leave. My wife saw the whole thing brewing and went to get help. The whole time I was yelling at Knoblauch I had thought my Oklahoma State “buddies” were right there – you know I was drunk – but they had left as I made my way towards the railing to interrupt the interview. Anyways – that’s what happened at my wife’s first MLB game.
[...] The rest is equally funny. [...]
One year, John Anderson of SportsCenter fame was the Grand Marshall for Mizzou’s Homecoming. A friend of mine (who was a little intoxicated to say the least) walked up to him and asked 2 of the most ridiculous questions I have ever heard.
First, and I quote – “So, you still doing that SportsCenter thing?” Followed by – “So, Did you go to Mizzou for the Journalism school?” The confused look on John’s face was priceless and a little awkward. I of course said nothing. How could I top that?
One of the cool things about growing up and then working in LA was having the opportunity to meet lots of celebrities: Bruce Willis, Robin Williams, Sammy Davis Jr., Gene Wilder, probably being the most famous. So I evolved this rule of thumb: if they indicate by eye contact that they wouldn’t mind be approached, or if they’re somewhere where they’d expect it (film opening, book signing, whatever) then I’ll approach. Otherwise, I just leave them alone. I kinda wish I’d told Vin Scully how many hundreds (now thousands) of hours of pleasure he gave me over the years, but as my dad said, “Leave him alone. He has a right to eat in a restaurant same as we do.”
As for three people to eat with, my mother, my late father, my late brother. How could I ever give my mother a better gift? But if I was being selfish rather than altruistic, Mark Twain, Terry Pratchett, Groucho Marx, and a tape recorder. I hate leaving off Sandy Koufax , but I’m not sure the others would be fans, or he fans of theirs. My selfish baseball trio: Koufax, Bill James, Jackie Robinson (lots of possible choices there). I don’t *really* want to talk to Jackie Robinson that much, but how could I pass up the chance to tell him about our president-elect?
I happened to meet the Avett Brothers last night after a show, and I was pretty starstruck. I mentioned that I’m from VA (they’re from NC, so it’s sort of close), and one of them asked where in VA? I replied Richmond, and he said his wife was from there. I asked where specifically — as in, what town, because no one is actually from Richmond, the city — and he had no idea, despite having been there numerous times.
I lost a bit of respect for Scott Avett then. But only just a bit.
In August 2006, I met Gerry Adams in Belfast, thanks to the kindly intervention of a Catholic priest.
I was an adult volunteer for my former parish’s youth group, and we spent eight days in Belfast on a cultural exchange that included our group from Michigan, local Irish teens, and a German youth group. Our host got us scarce tickets to an Anuna concert at Clonard Cathedral.
We got there a half-hour early. Father Brian, a young Irish priest who traveled with us and said our Masses, sat behind me. Soon, he tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Gerry Adams is here. Would you like to meet him?” (He knew that I was a soon-to-be graduate student in political science.)
I replied, “Sure, but he’s a busy man and I wouldn’t want to be a bother.”
I thought that ended it, but five minutes later Father Brian shows up alongside a brown-suited, balding man, and it hits me that he is Gerry Adams’ body man and I’m actually going to meet him. I followed the men into a corridor, down an wood-paneled hallway, and into a reception room full of hors d’oeurves and elegantly dressed dignitaries.
Since this was an outdoorsy trip and we weren’t expecting formal events, I was wearing a light spring jacket, a T-shirt, and (ha) my Reebok sneakers emblazoned with the Union Jack. In this garb, one of the auxillary bishops of Belfast introduced me to Gerry Adams.
Fortunately, he didn’t look down at my feet. We shook hands; I introduced myself as a Catholic from Detroit and a supporter of united Ireland, Father Brian took our picture, and I was ushered out of the room as fast as I was brought in.
But I did meet a guy whom the British Crown tried to kill, bleep out on the news, etc., lived through it, and reformed his old ways and changed his heart for the better.
Oh, and my two answers to the “four-person lunch” question (I’ve always felt that long-dead historical figures shouldn’t count, but a deceased person active in the 20th century is OK):
Manly edition:
1) Rahm Emanuel
2) Al Pacino
3) Townes Van Zandt
Probably a well-lubricated lunch, too. Now for Take 2:
Womanly edition:
1) Jacqueline Kennedy
2) Venus Williams
3) Scarlett Johansson
I know this comment is way late, but I just wanted to let you know my awkward conversation with a famous person was with none other than Ben Folds. Met him after a free show to promote Rockin the Suburbs. I think what makes this type of situation thought is that you want to talk about something they don’t get asked about 1,000 times. Anyway, Mr.s Folds ended the conversation with, “I said I don’t really talk about it.”
*OK, it’s 5 a.m. in the Oakland Airport — yeah, 5 a.m., this is what I’m going through so I could meet Dave Eggers — and I am staring straight at one of those little mini-airport billboards for something called “Laser Eye Center of Silicon Valley.†The Laser Eye’s spokesman of choice? Oakland Raiders quarterback JaMarcus Russell.
I saw that a few weeks ago, and literally laughed out loud. I was actually stuck at the air port because I missed the early flight to Phenoix (and then to new york) and must have laughed a dozen times because of that poster.
I’ve met Ben Folds twice, both by accident…he’s a decent guy, could’ve grabbed a coffee with him but I was too starstruck to recognize the opportunity presenting itself >:0