Comments on: How to meet famous people

By: Fossy

Fossy — Sun, 01 Mar 2009 17:56:34 +0000

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

By: nick

nick — Wed, 03 Dec 2008 22:22:01 +0000

*OK, itâ€™s 5 a.m. in the Oakland Airport â€” yeah, 5 a.m., this is what Iâ€™m going through so I could meet Dave Eggers â€” and I am staring straight at one of those little mini-airport billboards for something called â€œLaser Eye Center of Silicon Valley.â€ The Laser Eyeâ€™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.

By: James

James — Thu, 20 Nov 2008 02:58:32 +0000

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.”

By: Jason Ardanowski

Jason Ardanowski — Mon, 17 Nov 2008 04:47:38 +0000

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

By: Jason Ardanowski

Jason Ardanowski — Mon, 17 Nov 2008 04:26:58 +0000

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.

By: Thomas

Thomas — Sun, 16 Nov 2008 21:19:12 +0000

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.

By: Richard Aronson

Richard Aronson — Sat, 15 Nov 2008 00:11:46 +0000

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?

By: DK in MS

DK in MS — Fri, 14 Nov 2008 15:22:56 +0000

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?

By: This Made Me Laugh: - The Daily Limit - Skinny Moose Media

This Made Me Laugh: - The Daily Limit - Skinny Moose Media — Thu, 13 Nov 2008 17:46:38 +0000

[...] The rest is equally funny. [...]

By: Shoeless_Mike

Shoeless_Mike — Thu, 13 Nov 2008 17:12:19 +0000

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.