Well, things are heating up at blogspot, that's for sure!
When I first started to "post" a few months ago at a Fox Website (OTL) reality show, it was basically on a whim. Each day, I would reflect on my thoughts, or pen a topical post on a newsworthy event.
The show folded at the end of August last year, so I moved on to blogspot, not expectin' much feedback.
Ah, but much better tools to toy with at the google site. And, a worldwide audience to cater to, if a blogger pines to expand horizons from a small fish pond to the great ocean beyond.
Well, in recent days, it appears to have panned out. You see, everywhere I go, people tend to recognize me.
For instance, I was in a restaurant last week and overheard one lad whisper to his effervescent pal,
"Do you know who that is?"
I turned to take a gander at the person they were kibitzing about - turned out to be moi! Ooops! After getting caught red-handed, the flustered duo tried to suppress their classic "egg-on-the-face" demeanor, as I turned back to sip on my piping-hot java.
Then, the other night as I was walking through a trendy Nightclub, the heads started turning one by one - not unlike a domino effect - as club-goers spied me picking my way through the packed high-energy house.
As I passed by a couple of twenty-something kids, I heard one of 'em gush,
"He looks like an 80's rock star."
"Yes, he does," his pal chimed in.
Yup, a handful of us have been famous for our golden locks - pop icon Rod Stewart, teen idol Peter Frampton, and yours truly! And, I intend to keep each lustrous strand, until father time tugs 'em out at the roots, I guess!
Natch, I was flattered by the compliment. I gobbled it up, in fact.
Heh, Dudes, B52's and shots on the house.
Now, I understand how celebrities feel in their new-found infamy; albeit, on a more miniscule scale.
Personally, I believe it's preferable to acquire fame over a duration of time, so you can sort-of settle in to the "spotlight" with the least intrusive upset.
Actually, for most of my adult life I have been fairly well-known, in varying degrees of red-hot celebrity.
For example, I often graced the pages of National ads when I modelled in my teens, and was lucky to garner a handful of press clips in the newspapers, when an art exhibition or two was unveiled at a prominent gallery at landmark stages of my long and winding career.
So, over time, I was able to acclimatize myself to the phenomenon of being in the public eye.
Actors tend to struggle for years in total oblivion, then BAM - with one plum role - they are suddenly thrust onto the world stage. On many a National talk show, astonished thespians swear up-and-down that no matter how prepared you think you are for the glare of the spotlight - when it hits, it can shell-shock 'ya - in many respects.
But, it's the bizarre behaviour of the ring-siders, that unsettle on occasion.
For instance, when I step into a cafe and a cashier spots me, their eyes go wide; then, they get all tongue-tied, might even turn beet red.
I pretend I'm clueless, snatch up my order, and head out the door with a smile.
Whew! Looney tunes, man!
Even counter staff at the local Library creep into a slow paralysis when they spy me heading their way at check out. When that dazed expression spreads wide across their faces, I have to seriously wonder, don't they realize how silly they appear?
Golly, if a star from the neighborhood popped in for a book loan, they'd probably poop their panties! And save em, for posterity! Yup, just catalogue 'em under "M" for memorabilia.
On occasion, when I sit down in Starbucks, a customer will subtly nudge a pal and whisper under his breath,
"Look, it's the blogger guy."
Well, I've been called worse!
Frankly, I'm surprised at how unsophisticated people truly are when they come into contact with "known entities"; especially in Los Angeles - where most folks ought to be jaded - 'ya know?
Funny thing, when I need to recognized - like at a bank, for instance - when I am cashing a check, they haven't a clue. But, when I would prefer anonymity - while tucking a dollar bill in the bikini of a lap dancer, or while I'm out of my gourd at a sports game - they're all eyes and ears!
I surmise the reason celebrities hang out together is because misery loves company. In a moment of celebrity crisis, they have each other to cling to, a warm body by their side to comfort 'em as they careen down dark alleys out of reach of the paparazzi and their searing penetrating lenses.
Two in a fishbowl - a tad cozier - wouldn't you agree?
I hazard a guess that now-a-days, I'll have to pay more attention to my dancing shoes; God forbid, should they be scuffed or down at the heels. And, spritz on fragrant deodorant daily, so the rumor mongers don't take jabs at me like they were inclined to with Keanu Reeves in his grunge days.
If I follow the golden rule - "always act like the person you want to impress is standing over your shoulder" - gossip mongers will be at a loss to conjure up gripes, don't you think?
Ah, fame. There are many ways to skin that cat.
Walter Winchell once said,
"The way to become famous fast is to throw a brick at someone who is famous"
Or a telephone, just ask Russel Crowe.
Sensory perception kicks in...
