Basket of Thoughts

Thoughts from my mind to the internet

It’s funny how things change over time. I used to listen to music on pandora at work. Now, most of the time I find myself listening to a few different podcasts on youtube during the day. Most of them are just goofy comedy shit because if you’re laughing you’re doing good. It helps to keep me in a positive mood. Today, I was listening to one of my favorites. Your Mom’s House. While interviewing their guest on the episode they were discussing certain interactions with fans they’ve had. Particularly the ones that are a bit annoying and just continue to keep the interaction going longer than it should have and in the ways they’ve handled it. It brought me back to when I was in my 20’s. I haven’t personally met too many famous people in my life. I’ve seen some and usually tend to leave them be just out of respect. On the first time I truly met someone who I feel was famous I was a complete fan boy. Also, completely fucking drunk. It was the lead singer and songwriter for the band Rusted Root, Michael Glabicki. He was doing a solo acoustic tour and he played at a very small place near where I live called The Brickhouse. I went to the show with my brother and our friend Matt. The same dudes I do most of my traveling with. We got there early and Lo and Behold, there he was just hanging out at the bottom of the stairs. Holy shit, I thought to myself. I didn’t think anything of it and went up to him shook his hand and he was very polite. I told him I was looking forward to the show. I let him be at that moment and commenced to drink with the guys. The show was great and afterwards he sat on the edge of the stage and was signing CD’s. I was wasted at this point so I went up and sat next to him and he we talked for awhile. He signed the set list and gave it to me as well as signed a couple of the CD’s I bought off him. It was a great experience, however listening to them talk on that podcast made me think of that moment and I thought to myself, fuck! I think I was that guy. I couldn’t tell at the time though because of how drunk I was and the fact that he was super cool. Who knows, maybe he didn’t mind it and maybe he liked the attention. He handled it well regardless.

Other people I’ve seen out and about or met are Ryan Adams, I walked by him on the street in Portland, Maine a couple hours before he was going to be playing. I’ve met Mike Scott and Steve Wickham of The Waterboys in Boston after they performed. Mike was promoting his autobiography and was signing copies of it after the show and Steve went with him so they could perform together. I also saw Steve Wickham on the streets of Cork, Ireland a few hours before seeing The Waterboys play that night. Daryl Hall has a restaurant/club that he opened in Pawling, New York several years ago. On the first New Year’s Eve that he had the place he was performing with the band there, no Oates but that was ok. It’s a small intimate club and my wife and I went up for that. She was my girlfriend back then. After he performed he hung out and took photos with everyone. I wanted to give him some breathing room so I kinda hung back for awhile. So long I almost missed my chance as he was getting ready to leave and security was keeping people away so he could leave. My wife helped me out and asked if would mind taking one with the both of us because she had gotten one with him already but I wanted one with the 3 of us. He was super cool about it and waved off security for one more photo. That meant a lot to me. Last but not least, on the following morning I was coming back into the hotel after smoking a cigarette and walking towards me was the sax player for Hall and Oates. He’s easy to recognize with the beard and the long hair. I saw him and said Hey. I saw him give me the quick glance of oh fuck. I made it quick and simply stuck my hand out and shook his and said “Great show last night.” He smiled, said thanks and we went our ways like ships passing in the night. Those are my celeb encounters thus far. I’ve been fortunate none of them were asses.

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