As I’ve started to encounter “famous” people through work, I’ve come up with a theory: the more an individual has achieved professionally, the nicer/cooler/more gracious he or she tends to be.
It’s not foolproof, as witnessed by one incident in which an A-List actor (I use that phrase to describe the guy, not to elevate my middling career by association with such individuals) declined a prearranged interview by putting his hand three inches away from my face and then wordlessly striding in the opposite direction. But most celebrities and athletes come across as genuine and truly appreciative of the role we little people have played in their ascent.
In the wake of another work thingie (and another nice celeb) this a.m., I got to thinking about the few times I’ve met Freedy. The first was at some benefit concert in the East Village. Since the venue didn’t have a backstage area, he slid to the left of the pit during the requisite pre-encore break. A conversation ensued:
LD: Hey, I just wanted to say I really enjoy your music.
Freedy Johnston: (very appreciative) Thanks, man. Thanks. It’s always great to hear that.
LD: Good show tonight, too.
FJ: Yeah. It was good. The band was good.
(uncomfortable silence)
FJ: (pointing back to stage) Well, I gotta…
LD: Yeah. Awesome. Go.
The second time was at Makor on the Upper West Side. During Freedy’s set, he got (justifiably) pissed off about all the clanging noises coming from the kitchen. During the encore break, he headed straight to the bar area, ostensibly to complain about the noise to a friend/manager seated right next to me and my pal Jeffrey. When Freedy stomped up, Jeff extended a piece of paper and cracked in a screechy voice, “Menu, Freedy?” He glared. Freedy, that is.
In conclusion, my friends and I are a bunch of idiots. Most stories in which we’re involved end that way.
Today’s FReedy FRiday selection - Innocent, off his debut record The Trouble Tree - has nothing to do with anything, really. Buy it here.
