Or celebrity slut. I come by it genetically. My father liked to brag about his "college classmate" Henry Kissinger. (Yep, him and a gazillion other Harvard students.) And my mother is still trying to figure out if she was ever at a party with Montgomery Clift. Not for nothing did I move to New York. For a fame-crazed atheist, it's like moving to one of those sacred spaces where the Virgin Mary is always making appearance on the sides of walls, or dirty hand towels. I walk the streets, living in eternal hope that I will see a celebrity, making my own existence more...radiant.
But my favorite fame-feeling these days is knowing I saw "Chicago" director "Rob" Marshall twenty-odd years ago, singing and dancing the title role of "Rockinoff," a not-very-good musical about a Beethoven era classical composer who accidentally invents rock and roll--on a tiny stage at Carnegie Mellon University. He gave it his all, and while it didn't save the show, it did make an indelible impression on me--of someone who could make something wonderful right away.
posted by Martha @ 6:33 PM
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