mr. jones and me
Fame is a mad scientist... snatching up those who can garner enough public approval to garner enough of the public's money, and shining the spotlight squarely on them as long as they keep garnering. All of a sudden everyone knows about these people (care of the spotlight), or at least knows the things about these people worth knowing (the money making aspects worth marketing).
It's weird being around a celebrity, especially around ones that you like a lot. It's not unlike being the nerdy kid that scores a locker right next to the captain of the cheerleading team. You get all jittery around them, and they scarcely notice you.
I can't say that I'd really like to be a big time celebrity. The way I see it, the only way to respond to being fawned over by people you don't know would be to: [1] Let your ego inflate until it explodes. [2] Loathe the day you ever became famous and get bitter about all the money you're making off of being popular. [3] Move to New York or LA and try to hide among other people as or more famous than you.
It would seem that Adam Duritz (of Counting Crows fame) has gone for blending in, as much as is possible. He lives in New York now, making frequent visits to LA. On my way back to Austin from NYC on Friday, I had my very own airport encounter with this particular famous one.
I generally shy away from talking to famous people. The way I figure it, I'm not their friend even if I do like their music/acting/writing/what have you, and any conversation with them would be all about me taking while giving nothing in return. I just want to talk to this person so that I can tell my friends that I talked to this person, and said person probably just wants me to leave them alone.
With all of these sentiments and ideals in mind, I avoided any conversation with Mr. Duritz while in line behind him at airport security and while walking next to him down the terminal. Unfortunately, my friends coaxed me into saying something to him, as I fell for the overused "You'll always regret it if you don't."
I went up to him, sitting at his gate, and had this exchange:
me: Adam.
adam: little to no response
me: Adam Duritz?
adam: eye contact, head nod
me: shaking his hand Sorry to bug you, but I'm a big fan of your music.
adam: Thanks.
me: trying to think of something to say, trying to gain some street cred You guys should really come to Austin sometime soon.
adam: Well, we're not going to be anywhere anytime soon.
me: not sure how to respond Oh so you guys are taking a break or something?
adam: Yeah.
me: completely out of conversational fodder Well, alright, see yah.
adam: at 6:30am Alright, have a good night.
Wow. That was brutal, for both of us. Why did I do that? Oh yeah, b/c I was going to regret it if I didn't say anything to him. It seems, though, that regret can also come into play while making a fool of oneself.
The whole time I was standing there, I couldn't help but think that Adam Duritz was a lonely guy waiting to fly elsewhere and be lonely. Granted it was early, and he was probably sleepy (as I would have been if I weren't jittery)... but I was struck with just how lonely being famous might be. You're accepted by everyone, but only at a distance. People get nervous around you, so they're not really themselves. You have to be constantly wondering if your friends are just your friends to bolster their own popularity. You've achieved the whole money/fame/success thing, and most likely found that to be somewhat of an empty pursuit. That carrot's no longer dangling.
So Adam, I hope you're not lonely and that you find true happiness and I hope you keep making music that allows people to identify with their own emotions in ways they wouldn't be able to otherwise.
By the way, New York was great... more on that later.
It's weird being around a celebrity, especially around ones that you like a lot. It's not unlike being the nerdy kid that scores a locker right next to the captain of the cheerleading team. You get all jittery around them, and they scarcely notice you.
I can't say that I'd really like to be a big time celebrity. The way I see it, the only way to respond to being fawned over by people you don't know would be to: [1] Let your ego inflate until it explodes. [2] Loathe the day you ever became famous and get bitter about all the money you're making off of being popular. [3] Move to New York or LA and try to hide among other people as or more famous than you.
It would seem that Adam Duritz (of Counting Crows fame) has gone for blending in, as much as is possible. He lives in New York now, making frequent visits to LA. On my way back to Austin from NYC on Friday, I had my very own airport encounter with this particular famous one.
I generally shy away from talking to famous people. The way I figure it, I'm not their friend even if I do like their music/acting/writing/what have you, and any conversation with them would be all about me taking while giving nothing in return. I just want to talk to this person so that I can tell my friends that I talked to this person, and said person probably just wants me to leave them alone.
With all of these sentiments and ideals in mind, I avoided any conversation with Mr. Duritz while in line behind him at airport security and while walking next to him down the terminal. Unfortunately, my friends coaxed me into saying something to him, as I fell for the overused "You'll always regret it if you don't."
I went up to him, sitting at his gate, and had this exchange:
me: Adam.
adam: little to no response
me: Adam Duritz?
adam: eye contact, head nod
me: shaking his hand Sorry to bug you, but I'm a big fan of your music.
adam: Thanks.
me: trying to think of something to say, trying to gain some street cred You guys should really come to Austin sometime soon.
adam: Well, we're not going to be anywhere anytime soon.
me: not sure how to respond Oh so you guys are taking a break or something?
adam: Yeah.
me: completely out of conversational fodder Well, alright, see yah.
adam: at 6:30am Alright, have a good night.
Wow. That was brutal, for both of us. Why did I do that? Oh yeah, b/c I was going to regret it if I didn't say anything to him. It seems, though, that regret can also come into play while making a fool of oneself.
The whole time I was standing there, I couldn't help but think that Adam Duritz was a lonely guy waiting to fly elsewhere and be lonely. Granted it was early, and he was probably sleepy (as I would have been if I weren't jittery)... but I was struck with just how lonely being famous might be. You're accepted by everyone, but only at a distance. People get nervous around you, so they're not really themselves. You have to be constantly wondering if your friends are just your friends to bolster their own popularity. You've achieved the whole money/fame/success thing, and most likely found that to be somewhat of an empty pursuit. That carrot's no longer dangling.
So Adam, I hope you're not lonely and that you find true happiness and I hope you keep making music that allows people to identify with their own emotions in ways they wouldn't be able to otherwise.
By the way, New York was great... more on that later.
posted by Brett at 2:19 PM
4 Comments:
So, you don't know me of course, but I've been reading your blog. I found it through Musings, by way of Relevant.
I don't suspect any thrill on your part for having another reader, but I always like to know when complete strangers regularly read my blog; so, there you have it.
Just saying hi.
thanks for saying hi stephanie. i do in fact have some thrill in having another reader, though readership does seem to bring with it a certain felt responsibility to keep doing what i do... which might make me need to figure out what that is exactly.
Brett, seems as though you've garnered a modicum of celebrity yourself with this blog. I wonder if people recognize you when they bump into you in cyberspace.
Amber alerted me to your recent Adam encounter and directed to me to your blog. I have to admit I'm more than a little obsessed with him. Seeing him in person would be a true existential dilemma.
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