No, you read the title right. It may sound a little awkward, but it’s what I meant to say. I have had a couple brushes with public fame, but none have so far brought me any fortune. But maybe you’d like to hear about them; and then again, maybe you wouldn’t. Either way, they’re the subject of this blog entry.
It’s really not easy being famous. You have the people bugging you, of course, and the constant requests for recognition or money (the latter of which I cannot offer). The worst part to me, however, is the tedious grind. Did you know you can get arthritis from getting famous? It’s true – arthritis in the wrist from the repetitive motion of pre-writing autographs on little cards so I can throw them into open car windows or put them on windshields or leave them in public places for lucky people to find. And then there’s the lack of privacy. But somebody has to do it.
The first time I got famous was on a New Year’s Eve, and it wasn’t even at a party. I was minding my own business (that’s the way fame often likes to strike) at the local junior-high track, working out. I had just finished a lap when a strange-looking man with an expensive-looking camera approached me very purposefully, as if I was just the man he wanted to see. And I was, for he asked (very politely, but very purposefully) if he could get a few pictures of me. It may have been my striking physique, but the fact that it was a strange-looking man asking the question disturbed me not a little until he explained that he was from the Houston Chronicle. He worked as a photographer for the section that covered our county (Brazoria), and as he swung by the track, he saw me and thought I might be an interesting subject.
Well, he wanted action shots, so I went back into action. It really is a strange feeling to have someone follow you and to hear their camera click at you. But I put up with it, and I even struck a somewhat dramatic pose every few passes. After he was done, he asked me a few simple questions (name, what I was doing there at the track, etc.) and then thanked me for the photo opportunity and left – it was that simple. A few weeks later, my fame arrived in the form of a Thursday newspaper edition with my picture in the corner of the front of the Brazoria County section, with its very own caption (but no article). Dad bought up several copies (one of which I still have), and I fielded a few phone calls of congratulations that day. Okay, maybe only one.
My fame lay dormant until just recently, as many of you are probably aware of. It again struck quite unexpectedly. It was the end of March, and I was with my Dad on a service project headed by my church. We were at an area elementary school helping it with various indoor and outdoor projects. Since my back is weak as well as my mind, I stayed indoors while Dad worked on the outdoor project. The project I found myself a part of was re-painting the principal’s office.
Now, I am certainly not a good painter, and nor do I play one on television. But they gave me a roller and a container of paint and told me to get to work, so I did. Of course, I got paint outside the acceptable lines as well as on my clothes, wheelchair, and hands in various messy ways (I noticed to my chagrin that all the other painters were as clean as they were accurate). But I painted away, and it came to the attention of a church photographer, who was no doubt documenting the event for the church magazine. Again, it must have been my striking physique, because it surely was not my mad painting skills. She camped out near me and began clicking away as I painted. Of course, being a veteran at this by now, I simply acted as if I was not aware of any cameras in the room.
I thought that was the end of the whole matter, but imagine my surprise when a friend told me, “Did you know you’re on the cover of the church magazine?” I didn’t expect any photos of me to even be published, and if they had, I’d have settled for inside the magazine or maybe even the back cover. But the front? This was amazing! I refused to believe it until I laid eyes on the actual magazine itself, which came out in May*. Sure enough, there I was, paint roller in my outstretched right hand and a very “down-to-business” look on my face. There was also my striking physique, but I’ve already mentioned that.
There seemed to be no end to the back-slaps and congratulations around church after that. “Hey, you’re famous!” they said. “Hey, you’re on the cover of ‘Sagemont Life’!” they said. I just smiled and quietly acknowledged the fact. And so this round of fame has at least another couple days left in it, before the next issue of the magazine comes out and a new person becomes famous. But that’s what fame is. It’s fickle, and it changes its mind so easily concerning on whom it shall shine next, and for how long. It has chosen to shine on me twice, and both times it has been in the form of a photograph. All I can say is – it must be my striking physique.
*Author’s Note: I personally have 13 copies of this magazine with the famous cover, and if any reader would like a copy, just let me know – and when you do, specify if you would like it autographed or not. You can also get a look at the magazine by going to http://www.sagemontchurch.org/learn/sagemontlife/index.htm and clicking on “May 2009”.
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