Hey everybody!It's been a couple weeks since I last checked in with you. Did you miss me? I've missed you! I hope you're all doing well, eating your vegetables, exercising and getting at least 8 hours of sleep each night. That's been my secret to success -- a well balanced diet, lots of rest and a big gulp of V8 juice before night-night time.
Another thing I like to do to stay active is to take my Yorkshire Terrier, Elvis Presley, on long walks around town. I like to meet with my many fans, sign autographs, take pictures, give piggy-back rides and let the ladies run their fingers through my curly mane of orange hair. Sometimes people will even buy me a soft pretzel from a street vendor if I ask them nice enough.
This past weekend, however, I was taken aback by one request.
A young man, he couldn't have been older than 12, approached me with a small notebook and a magic marker clutched tightly in his tiny little hands. Now, I get autograph requests constantly, so this is something I'm accustom to. I gave him my nicest smile and waited for him to make his way to where I was standing. "Excuse me, " he shyly asked. "But, can I have your autograph, Mr. Rappaport?"
I was speechless. This wasn't the first time I've been mistaken for this Rappaport fellow. I'm not entirely sure who he is, but I think he's involved with Drug Trafficking. I surely don't want people to think I'm in the Drug Business. I'm in the basketball business, for goodness sake! I say "NO!" to everything but 3-pointers and staunch defense.
I didn't want this kid to get the wrong idea about his hero, Brian Scalabrine, so I had to set the record straight. "No!" I shouted as I yanked the notebook out of his hand and pushed the child to the ground. A small crowd quickly gathered as people realized they were in the midst of greatness, but I knew I just didn't have enough time to sign autographs for everybody. I quickly sprinted away while people clutched at me, reaching for their chance to touch a real-life Superstar. I luckily escaped amid Boos and shouts for someone to call the police.
Now, I know I have a lot of fans, and they demand a lot from me, but I just don't think it's right for someone to try to get me arrested for not signing an autograph for them, or letting them get their picture taken with me. Yes, I'm a large man, but there's only so much Scal to go around.
Let this be a lesson for you, everybody. Sometimes, the life of a superstar isn't all glitz, glamor and all-you-can-eat buffets. There's a darker-side to success. But when you're on top of the world, it's tough to find things to complain about.
Until next time, friends!
3 comments:
I remember my older brother used to love the Celtics. He's 11 years older than me and he liked them since the days of Larry Bird and Kevin McHale. I remember playing with my Barbie dolls while he and his friends called me "queerbait" and "pillow biter". I didn't know what they meant. I was probably only eight years old. All I knew was that basketball wasn't for me. But never say never. Last year, my straight friends were watching a Celtics game and my pleas to change the channel were met with "queerbait" and "pillow biter." I guess some things never change. But then it happened. I discovered a newfound interest in basketball....and it came in the form of Brian Scalabrine. If it's possible to make eye contact through a TV screen, then I think Brian and I shared a moment. Of course, in real life this moment would have consisted of him calling me "queerbait". But this wasn't a real moment. This was reality filtered through my television screen. Which makes it 'not reality at all.' But I'll take what I can get. Ever since then, I have been a hardcore Boston Celtics fan. I plan on attending a game in the near future. I recently watched a Scal interview on YouTube. I learned that Brian and I share the same musical taste (i.e. Metallica and Rage) and that his wife makes a mean chicken and vegetables. I would challenge his wife to a cook off to win Brian's affection but I'd venture to say Brian is straighter than a grizzly's dick...and on top of that, I wouldn't want to disrespect his wife. After all, his wife and I could someday be shopping buddies and I wouldn't want the awkward tension. So with that having been said....Brian, you're hot (in that pastey white skin, red headed way). Keep rocking that b-ball and don't beat me up if I stare into your eyes a second too longer than a dude should when I ask you for an autograph at your next game.
For a second post... this is awesome. I'll keep visiting your blog for more reading.
It is very interesting
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