Seeing celebrities in this land of soy milk and organic honey is no Grecian myth. It really does happen from time to time ““ and while we normally don’t see movie stars roaming the streets of Los Angeles in coyote-like packs, they’re definitely out there. I’ve seen them running errands like zombies at Ralph’s, walking their dogs on our lovely campus, and attending Hollywood liberal media, elitist, unpatriotic terrorist events at Royce Hall.
So what should you do if you sight a celebrity around town? Well, there are certain tiers of appropriate responses based on several factors including context, their celeb letter-grade, personal significance and blood-alcohol content. But the most important thing is that you exaggerate your experience as much as possible when you tell your snotty Ivy League friends.
The most hilarious and accessible celebrity-sighting experiences are the D-listers and below. Freshman year, my friends and I got into the elevator at Longs with Kevin Sorbo.
“Who is that?” you may ask. Exactly! If you were as big of a fan of the TV show “Hercules” as my friend Taylor, then you would have been hilariously excited too.
I felt the same nostalgic elation at seeing Mike O’Malley, the host of Nickelodeon’s “Global Guts,” on a late night at Canter’s on Fairfax.
The D-list and below-ranking celebrities can be dealt with in a couple of ways ““ the most obvious being to just point and snicker. But if you have a BAC of higher than .15, then by all means, approach with bravado. Had I been a few gin and tonics deep, perhaps Mike O’Malley and I would have had a nice bonding experience over matzo brei. Or a mortifying experience over matzo brei. We will never know.
If you’re lucky, there might be a time when you see a celebrity of actual relevance.
Last fall, I had an earth-shattering experience when I met my favorite director/human being of all time: Wes Anderson.
It’s difficult for me to string together the words to describe what this meant ““ and still means ““ to me. The meeting left me in tongue-tied awe ““ kinda like Sarah Palin in her interview with Katie Couric.
Now, in some cases, when faced with an especially regal, distinguished, A-list star, such as a Denzel Washington or a Cate Blanchett, it is best to leave them alone and observe them in their natural habitat of gilded pedestals.
But when it’s someone that you absolutely worship ““ artists with gravitas like a Wes Anderson or a Martin Scorcese or a Dina Lohan, muster up some strength, straighten your bow tie and approach with a humble confidence.
You’ll definitely be nervous. If you’re like me, you may have grand fantasies of your celeb deity falling in love with you and/or wanting to take you on as a partner in his latest project. You’ll want to say something insightful, witty and profound.
Let me save you some time: Don’t even try. It’ll come off as contrived and as phony as an American Apparel ad, so just be sincere, shake their hand and look them in the eye ““ unless they have a piercing stare like Tilda Swinton, in which case, avert your eyes or you will be turned to stone.
But what should you do if the star of your dreams turns out to be a huge, cold jerk?
Remember that scene in “That Thing You Do!” when Jimmy tries to talk to the head of Playtone Records while he’s scarfing a massive sandwich, and gets totally blown off? Awk!
The moral of this story: Don’t approach celebrities when they’re eating sandwiches dripping with mayonnaise. That’s really the only preventative measure you can take. If they end up barking at you, just run away and weep, and then e-mail Perez Hilton so he can blog about it.
Some of us intellectual college types can try to trick ourselves into thinking that getting excited about celebrities is a banal pursuit worthy only of dedicated Tiger Beat readers, but let’s just be real here.
There’s nothing wrong with a little admiration … especially when it’s Wes Anderson standing in front of you in a pinstripe suit.
If you’ve recently had a particularly amazing or horrifying celebrity encounter, then e-mail McReynolds at dmcreynolds@media.ucla.edu.