Biked right behind J.K. Simmons today at the gym!!!!!!!!!!! He was, you know, only in my favorite comedic film in the history of cinema (
The Ref -- he played Lieutenant Siskel, an army school teacher blackmailed by his student for incriminating sexshewal photos). He was also seriously excellent as a twisted Nazi fucker in
Oz (directed by Terry Kinney, who directed me in a play at Steppenwolf back in the day! Shit, that was kind of an 'in.') I totally should have said something. Instead I kept grinning to myself goofily, looking around wondering if anyone else was as thrilled by his presence as I was. No one else even seemed to notice! I kept fantasizing about passing him a note while he worked out, something like "HEY, YOU ARE WONDERFUL," just so he knew, you know? But of course it remained a fantasy, as I 1) didn't have a pen 2) am a pussy.
You see, for me it's not about running into Angelina Jolie or Christina SpearsLoveAnistonHudsonHathaway, it's about guys like these, and gals like Doris Roberts. There's a thrill to running into a "celebrity," sure, someone that's been on covers of magazines and splashed across the various voyeuristic portals allowing us stronger glimpses into actors' lives to which any of us should have access, but above all, the thrill for me of watching Richard Lewis make a left hand turn in front of my car (today!) is recognizing someone out of the context of the fabricated world in which you already know them. Of course I don't already
know them, but I have a strong, daily tendency to refer to movies to help me handle any given situation, so I've visited and revisited and revisited again (I also have a tendency to re-watch films like 9238493284 times and never get bored) these characters, scenarios, and stories, and so I guess what I'm trying to say is, the thrill comes from the shock of seeing them out of context, and also from just being honored to be in such close physical actual proximity to such performative talent. It ain't about the "fame," really (otherwise I would have given more than two shits about
this particular run-in), it's about really loving, appreciating, and digesting what these people have done with the characters they've been given. And that's what leaves me slack-jawed and giggly. Here's to working beside you someday soon, Sir Simmons.
The Ref:
"And in my dream, I was served Lloyd's head on a plate of spinach...with his penis sticking out of his ear.
And I said,
'I didn't order this. "
And the waiter said,
"You must try it. It's a delicacy.
But don't eat the penis:
it's just garnish."
- Mmm.
- Lloyd, what do you
think about the dream?
I think she should stop telling it
at dinner parties to all our friends."
Nnnnnooooooooooo...!! 
the apparition of these faces in a crowd
top, my favorite photog guy bourdin, bottom, strikingly similar composition via ffffound
Biked right behind J.K. Simmons today at the gym!!!!!!!!!!! He was, you know, only in my favorite comedic film in the history of cinema (The Ref -- he played Lieutenant Siskel, an army school teacher blackmailed by his student for incriminating sexshewal photos). He was also seriously excellent as a twisted Nazi fucker in Oz (directed by Terry Kinney, who directed me in a play at Steppenwolf back in the day! Shit, that was kind of an 'in.') I totally should have said something. Instead I kept grinning to myself goofily, looking around wondering if anyone else was as thrilled by his presence as I was. No one else even seemed to notice! I kept fantasizing about passing him a note while he worked out, something like "HEY, YOU ARE WONDERFUL," just so he knew, you know? But of course it remained a fantasy, as I 1) didn't have a pen 2) am a pussy.
