You know the type, "did you hear about so-and-so? She's getting a divorce! Why I remember when she barely got the part in "Bye-bye Gordy"! The only way she got that part was because she knew my nephews next door neighbors best friends sisters babysitters uncle, who knew that guy who once knew the lady that ran the catering trucks best friends assistants cousin." You know the type, full of themselves, full of insecurity, full of jealousy. These are the people that I like to refer to as "Bitter little Widgeons".
Their lives never quite measured up to what they had imagined in their little heads, so they create a reality for themselves of people they "MAY" have met, known, been acquainted with, or, more likely, got to meet one time when they were but a small child, based on not what they did, but, rather, the actions of someone they know.
Compare this, if you will, to the actions of someone like myself. Someone who has met, and/or entertained countless celebrities/sports figures/famous people just based on being myself!(and being in the right place at the right time)
Why, I remember one time when I entertained Jerry Jones, (you know, the owner of the Dallas Cowboys) for literally minutes! There I was, up on stage in Vegas, performing my act with my partner Redfish, when, what to my surprise should appear, a miniature man, and 2 not-so tiny breastesses. He was so impressed with our act that all he could say after was "damn, there was these 2 drunk guys in the bathroom". That's right, after peeing right next to Jerry Jones, he came out of the Bathroom laughing and shaking his headously little head because, yes, I, made, him, laugh! (would have been much more spectacular if a: I had known he was in there, and b: I hadn't been so drunk)
Then there was the time that me and my best friend Tim Duncan of the San Antonio By-Gawd Spurs went to the grocery store together. We were just hanging out, buying cookies and onions together and having a grand-old time, when I realized, "crap, I'm in HEB with Tim Frickin Duncan. I said Hi. He said "Hey". We bonded. We're now pretty much best friends.
Did I ever tell you about how me and Avery "The Little General" Johnson, a member of the World Champion San Antonio Spurs got to be be best buddies? Well, there we were, me and the eldest offspring, taking in the sights, enjoying the day, when I heard a little voice say, "dad, can i go on the moon-bounce"? It was at that point that I turned to him, and in an equally whiny voice said "well I don't know you little bastich, are you made of money? Well, are you?" But I digress. It was at this point that Mr. Johnson said from behind me "I've got extra tickets, he can go with my kids". So my child, the moonlight of my life got to jump on the moon-bounce with Avery Johnson's kids, and I got to hang and talk with Avery (Hope he doesn't mind me calling him Avery) for the next 10 minutes. Class guy all the way around!
Or how about the time I got a hug from Cheryl Ladd. That's right my friends. I got a hug from Cheryl (as in Charlie's Angels) Ladd. The real deal. She's still hot. Did I mention that I had a poster of her hanging on my wall when I was but a wee lad?
So, what's all this mean? I have no idea. What I do know is that I've had the privilege of meeting several famous people during the course of my life. Some of these I've actually spoken to! Does this make me any better than you? Damn right! Just kidding of course, but at least when I tell the stories of me hangin with some famous people, you know that I've maybe MET some of these people, but I can't say that I actually KNOW these people. That's the difference between me and "those" people. I'm not delusional enough to actually believe I know and am personal friends with everybody that I've ever seen their name in the credits from some old crappy western.
See, the way I look at it is this...if you have to tell everybody, repeatedly, how important you are because you met all these people at one point in your life, you're living a pretty shallow, pathetic existence! Get out and do something memorable based on your own merits! Don't try to name-drop to impress me, cause it ain't gonna work. I don't give a crap who you've met, slept with, sung with, swapped slobber with or whatever. I care about what kind of person you are. Period. If you've got to build yourself up based on who you know, you don't need to know me! Or the people I care about. Shut the hell up Biotch!
