One man’s continuing effort to catalogue every famous person he’s ever encountered.
CE1K: So, I wish I had a better Ted Kennedy story to match all the amazing and inspiring anecdotes that have been filling the airwaves since the Liberal Lion’s death this past Tuesday (my favorite thus far being the one I heard on NPR about T.K. opening a can of whup-ass on the hemorrhoidal John Sununu, a Republican so loathsome even other Republicans couldn’t stand him). But all I’ve got is this: I was walking through a Boston hotel one day — let’s say the Sheraton — when suddenly I noticed Teddy across the mezzanine shaking hands with and backslapping a bunch of guys in suits. Then the senior senator from Massachusetts noticed me staring and flashed a big ol’ Kennedy smile, as if we’d just spent the weekend together hanging out in Hyannis Port. Again, not much of a story…still, here’s hoping the big man’s ghost sticks around D.C. just long enough to scare up some goddamn healthcare reform so I never, ever have to hear anybody talk about health care reform ever, ever again.
CE1K: Driving past M.I.T., my parents and I catch a glimpse of Al Gore in a beard. Ho-hum.
CE3K: My friend Lorna drafts me to shoot a campaign fundraising video for then Massachusetts State Representative Tom O’Brien, wherein various colleagues and constituents each sing his praises before actually singing a few lines (to the tune of “We Love You Conrad” from Bye, Bye Birdie) in the politician’s honor (i.e., “We love you Tom, oh yes we do, we love you Tom, and we’ll be true, when you’re not near us, we’re blue, oh Tom, we love you”). Next to Chris and Marianne “Mama Moltisanti” Cooper, the most famous person I interview is future town hall hero Congressman Barney Frank, who ushers me into his office, says his piece, and then makes it very, very clear, in the manner of a man with whom one does not mess, that he has no interest whatsoever in singing my goofy little song. (Insert “I guess not all gay men like musicals” joke here.)
CE1K: Queen Elizabeth II visits Boston for America’s Bicentennial and I see her waving a gloved hand from the balcony of some historical building or another — let’s say Faneuil Hall — accompanied by President Gerald Ford or Governor Mike Dukakis (or possibly both). I was only nine at the time, so my memories of the sighting are hazy, although I can say with some degree of certainty that I was probably wearing plaid pants.
CE1K: A decade or so later, my friend Pete and I embark on a fairly misguided trip to London, overspend for our accommodations and soon wind up penniless (or, to be precise, ha’penniless). Unable to afford any activity but loitering, we show up many, many hours before the royal premiere of Children of a Lesser God and secure prime real estate among the gawkers along the red carpet. Eventually limousines begin to arrive, disgorging ever more glamorous dignitaries while the crowd of onlookers grows ever more agitated and increasingly tumescent until the excitement finally climaxes with an orgasm of flashbulbs as Princess Diana herself sweeps past, inches away in a breathtaking holy-shit-it’s-really-her fairy tale gown, accompanied by some homely British dude with big ears. And then she was gone.
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