Speaking To Silent Bob

"Fame, makes a man take things over. Fame, lets him loose, hard to swallow. Fame, puts you there where things are hollow. Fame" David Bowie from "Fame"

The nurse was late getting me that dose which I loves the most. I hollered for her to stop whatever she was doing and get my Dixie cup to me, but all my screaming fell of the deaf ears of the steroid bloated orderlies and the empty walls of the Asylum. The nurse wasn't in the building. This fueled my anger as I don't think it's too much to ask that ones imaginary nurse stay within the confines of ones imagination. Why should I ever have to look for her? She should always be at my beck and call. Then, just as I was about to blow one of my Spacely Sprockets she was standing in the doorway with a Dixie Cup so full, she had to place a saucer under it to catch spillage. I asked, nay, demanded to know where she had been. As she strolled over to me, a smile came to her face. She had been standing in line to meet David Hasselhoff. Well, that was just, really, David Hasselhoff? I loved Knight Rider. My anger quelled, I mean, how often to you get to meet a celebrity hero? Hasselhoff or whomever it is.

I never really thought of myself as the star struck type. Working at the National I met so many sports stars that I think I got over it, if it ever existed. Sure there were a few that tripped my tongue. The time I met Kirby Puckett, or the first time I met Rod Carew. Those guys were heroes of mine, and legendary players for the Minnesota Twins, how could I not show them the proper respect. They were the only two sports stars that I ever met that I called "Mister". Not Gretzky, not Bonds, not Griffey Jr., not even Deacon Jones. But this isn't a sports blog, ladies, don't freak out, I know how much most of you detest those. I mention the ball players so that you can gauge that I really don't have too many star crushes.

As you all know by now, if I was to ever meet Leonardo DiCaprio, well, I'd stalk. That's all I'm saying. I don't want to be threatening, but Leo, yeah, I would probably stalk him a little bit. So what. The only other "star" that got me speechless, I stood in line to meet. And that's where this tale is headed. To the line.

For a celebrity signing of any kind, there is a line protocol. First of all, those in the front of the line are obviously the biggest fans of whoever it is that they have come to see, and therefore, from their position in the front of the line, can make fun of the rest of the line dwellers for being less fanatical. It's strange, but true. If you are in one of these lines the only subject of discussion must be the person you are there to see, their movies, their music, whatever it is they do, and why they are so much better than anyone else doing it. You are not there to show up in a costume from the film, but an interesting reference isn't a bad thing. To this particular line which I speak my two roommates and I all wore hockey jerseys. So, who was it, not to that part of the story yet.

We arrived to find the line about two hundred people deep and growing, but out status of fandom was not to be determined by our line position, because we bought a tasty bribe to get us to closer to the front of the line, Krispy Kreme Donuts. We actually had some friends that had been there a while, but the donuts seemed to soothe the anger of those around them as more of us piled in. And there we stood on Ventura Blvd with a throng of others eager with anticipation for the arrival of Kevin Smith. It was the morning that Jay And Silent Bob Strike Back was released on DVD and Kevin was signing at Dave's Video. And we were about 10th in line. Geek level - 9.5

So as the moment of my idols arrival neared, I will admit that I started getting giddy. This is the guy that I model my writing style after, so of course, I was all a twitter. We all were. The windows of the shop were being watched by all of those near the front of the line, vultures circling in the sky waiting for the last breath of life to escape our prey. Then the moment arrived. As I waited with the patience of a five year old in line to get into Disneyland, I thought about what I would say to him. Before I knew it, there I was, standing two feet from the man who penned Chasing Amy, Dogma, and of course, Mallrats. With my DVD in hand I walked as calmly as I could muster to the long table at which he was seated. I handed him my grip of items I wanted signed, my DVD of Jay and Bob which on it he wrote "Mike, you were the bomb in Phantoms", my copy of Daredevil number 1 on which he wrote "I posed for this" and a Jay and Bob poster that my roommates and I would frame and hang, which he inscribed "To the boys, from the Woman, Kevin Smith." So, here was my chance to say something to him. And what came out of my mouth, seemed to stagger him. I said "I've got about a million things that I would like to say to you, but at the moment all I can think of is thank you." He was taken aback by the comment in a good way, then looked up and said, "No, thank you." Then we posed for a picture and I walked to the back of the store for a cigarette.

It was done. I had met my idol. I had shaken his hand. Taken a photo. And I knew that memory would be with me for the rest of my life. And it will have to do until I get a chance to talk to him as a fellow film writer.

Which idol of yours would you like to meet and what would you say?

Dixie Cup of Love: Lisa, Punk Ass, Captain Jen and all the people we met in the Dave's Video line.