Reaching for the Stars

I thought I saw Edward Norton, best loved for his poignant and touching performance in Fight Club, at the gym last night.


I immediately went into my “celebrity sighting” mode, which is to say: head down, sweaty palms, clenched jaw and ceasing to breathe.

One of my many irrational fears is meeting celebrities (the list also includes getting eaten by an escalator, looking into dark mirrors, and realizing I’m making out with a half-brother or sister because my Dad had a secret family that he failed to tell us about).

It wasn’t Edward Norton, thank goodness (I asked the guy on the eliptical next to me). I didn’t peg him for a Stair Master kind of guy, anyway. But, this got me thinking about some of my other celebrity encounters.

Jeremy Miller, July 1987: You know him best as “Ben” from Growing Pains. He was one of the guest judges for the All American Soap Box Derby, and some old guy who was trying to woo my mother got us tickets sitting right behind the judges’ table. I stared at the back of his head for the better part of 90 minutes.

G. Love and Special Sauce, October 1997: Ah, yes. G. Love and Special Sauce front man, G. Love, is a handsome fellow with saucy rhymes, a particularly attractive combo to the likes of a 17-year-old 123Valerie. My friend Neil agreed to go to Cleveland (the Odeon for anyone who cares) to see him with me, only on the condition that he could get stoned out of his gourd. Fair enough.

Once there, I found the Odeon was offering a backstage meet-n-greet for only $20. $20! I gladly paid my fee, went back, flashed my metallic smile and gave the man a hug. Then I asked what his dog’s name was. I’m sure it made sense at the time.

Air Supply, August 2004: I’m actually rather proud of this one. Click here to read about another of my romps with Hot Australians.

And that, kids, is the extent of my brush with celebrity. It’s probably just as well because I seem to lack the savior faire to interact with anyone who has even a modicum of fame.

In fact, I’ve been instructed by my lawyers not to talk about what happened when I saw Charlotte’s beloved weather anchor, Larry Sprinkle, at the Harris Teeter.


All I cay say is that the forecast is calling for a 100% chance of a restraining order.

In the Comments section, tell me about your favorite celebrity encounter.