I’ll never forget my first brush with fame. I was just a mere girl of 16 or so, hanging out with my bestie at the hottest restaurant in town, Bob Evans (their biscuits and gravy were considered a culinary masterpiece by hungover patrons throughout the Mid-west). Our small town had just finished putting on the annual Country Concert, where actual famous musicians would schlep on out to the boonies to play a three-day outdoor festival for us sunburned and beer-chuggin’ small-town folk.
When low and behold, we looked over to our left and saw no other than Lynyrd Skynyrd sitting mere feet from us (at least one of who was an actual original member).
Naturally, we did what any two 16-year-old girls would do in our situation. We giggled incessantly and kept randomly yelling out “Free Bird!”
My next big celebrity sighting was actually as a reporter in Texas. Three Days Grace had come to town to play a show and I was the lucky one picked to interview the band. Naturally, I did what any 26-year-old professional would do. I giggled incessantly and kept randomly blurting out “Oh my God, you’re hot.”
But none of that compares to today, when I had my first Boston celebrity sighting. There I was, just walking down the street with my husband, deep in discussion over what season of Buffy was the best (it was season three, jackass, and you know it), when Mel, the Mel, that Mel, the one and only fanbase from “Flight of the Conchords” passed us.
Naturally, I did what any almost 30-year-old cool, urban chick would do. I turned to my husband and incessantly stammered things like “Babe! Was that? It was, wasn’t it!?! Holy crap! That’s what’s-her-face from that show with the bird title! Oh man, what was her name? Valerie? Susan? Oh my god, this is so awesome! Julia? Penelope? Can you believe this? Man, I love that show! MEL! That was her name!”
Sadly, by the time I got my wits about me, Kristen Schaal (thank you, Google) was gone. I briefly contemplated running down the street yelling out “Mel!” in the hopes she’d stop and I could catch up and snap a photo with her (hello, most awesome Facebook profile pix ever). But my husband wrestled me to the ground and I was wearing my high-heeled boots that numb three-fourths of my toes anyway, so I reluctantly let her be.
But still, it was pretty awesome. And just another reason why I love Boston.
Of course, even with this newest sighting, I still can’t compete with my above-mentioned best friend, who at age 18 smoked a bong with Tracy Morgan.
But there’s still hope. I mean, this is Boston. Who knows who I’ll run into next?
(Prepare yourself, Affleck…and bring your bong).