Friday, December 02, 2005


One of the singular pleasures of living in New York for me is running into celebrities - actors and actresses, in particular. I have good recall for faces and names, and when you couple those with my continous tutelage under the IMDB, I have a pretty good handle on who's who and what they look like.

I have a knack for finding them in hotels, on the street and in shops: Willem Dafoe in Grand Central Station; John Norris on Prince and Greene; Debra Messing on 16th and 6th (see below); Bart Freundlich and Julianne Moore on 12th and 8th. It's not like I see Uma and Andre out there - there seems to be a rule that I only spot C- thru K-Listers, and for the most part, I think they are happy to be acknowledged.

My favorite starfucks are guys like Will Patton (above), a real lunchpail actor from a zillion flicks we've all seen. Never a headliner, always a supporting guy. He's always there to hold Bruce Willis' helmet, or Denzel Washington's whistle.

I always have the same momentary panic that overcomes someone whose life has been spent in front of television and movie screens when they finally see a celeb in the flesh - I am neurotically compelled to starfuck even if I loathe the performer's CV. At that point, it's a white-knuckle struggle to let Frank Whaley eat in peace.

Of course, there are times when Mario Cantone blows you off in front of John's Pizza; as if he gets accosted hunnets of times a day by people. Fuck that - I remember "Steampipe Alley," you kid-show hosting prick. Fuck you and your Liza impression.