Within 50 Feet of a Celebrity

In writing my brush with greatness post yesterday, I wondered: do I have enough of these to justify an entire category? Probably not. I kind of work in show business, though. Sort of. I have a signed photo of Peter, Paul, and Mary on my office wall. And one of Mack Brown. I've heard Peter, or Paul, or one of them, but definitely not Mary, whine to his manager about how hungry he was. On my way into the office in the morning, I once had to stop to let a line of elephants in ahead of me. My nose hairs have been singed by the uniquely horrifying odor of tiger pee. I have seen the naked, tiger-striped animal activists in cages, protesting the exploitation of the real thing. A coworker has a picture of Jon Bon Jovi's bejeaned ass in her digital camera. I said, "Excuse me," to Chuck Norris once. I've seen Vince Young and his entourage holding court in the cafeteria. I've seen Colt McCoy eating by himself in the same cafeteria. I've heard the Dalai Lama speak, and Hillary Clinton.

But the story to which I alluded yesterday is probably my best celebrity moment. And since I wrote an email at the time with which to regale my friends and family, it's the best kind of blog post: one that's already been written. I was blogging before I even knew what blogging was. So without further ado, here is the tale of how I saw a barefoot Matthew McConaughey from a distance. And Jake Gyllenhaal in cowboy boots. Maybe.

It's not like he was playing the bongos in my living room, but this is as close as I ever get to partying with the Hollywood elite:

Big Brother and I tailgated at the Texas-Ohio State game. We staked out a spot on the top of the parking garage on the east side of the stadium, pulled out the cute little propane grill that his wife gave him for the occasion, unfolded our folding chairs, popped open a couple of beers, and commenced to making with the good ol' American fun.

The garage overlooks the soccer stadium, and a large group was partying on the soccer field with a couple of campers and big screen TVs. Just about the time I wondered aloud who you had to be to get to party on the soccer field, another tailgater said, "That's Matthew McConaughey." Sure enough, a barefoot, sweaty, straggly-bearded McConaughey was tossing a football around down there with a handful of other guys.

I didn't have a camera, or even a camera in my cell phone, so I did the next best thing: I called Mrs. Rodius and said, "Guess what I'm doing right now?" She didn't guess, but when I told her, she said if I got close enough to be sure to get his autograph and grab his butt. Fortunately I didn't get that close, though, because I think that might have been embarrassing for both Matt and me.

Before long, a small crowd had gathered along the edge of the garage roof. One mohawked young man suggested that he was going to go down there and tackle him, just to say he did. He went down there with a friend and took some pictures, but he never worked up the nerve for a good tackle. Big Brother and I were disappointed, because we didn't see any security staff around, so we hypothesized that his bodyguards were the regular joes he was throwing the ball around with. Those regular joes would probably be the guys delivering a beating to the mohawk man. We never got to see the hypothesis tested, though.

A young woman in an Ohio State shirt went down, too, and tried to work her way into their game. Matt wasn't throwing it to her, though. Her friends yelled down to her that she'd have more luck if she took her top off, but she wasn't going for it. Instead, she managed to chat a bit with another woman in Matt's party, which Big Brother and I agreed was a good strategy. She never quite wormed her way into his inner circle though, hindered as she was by the Ohio State gear. Matt and I are both loyal Longhorn fans you know, Matt and I are.

So that's my tale of greatness. Pretty exciting stuff, huh? Someone among the spectators said that one of the football-tossers who'd wandered off had been Jake Gyllenhaal, but I don't remember noticing "the guy in the black jeans and cowboy boots," so I can't attest to his authenticity myself.

And then the Longhorns lost. The End.

Hook 'Em!