I Thought You'd Be Taller When You Met Me

Since exploding into the blogging world, many people have approached me on the street asking me the truly important questions: “Would you like to sample some of this fried summer sausage?” and “Did you pay for your gas at the pump?”  Let’s not forget this penetrating query, “Would you be willing to buy some chocolate bars to help our pee wee football team?”  Yes, it is clear that I have made an impression that will not be filled in quietly with concrete and then driven on anonymously.

Obviously it has been hard to deal with this level of fame and notoriety.  I empathize with those who have trodden on the lonely path of famousity before me.  It has been difficult, but I made what I believe is the best choice in confronting the massive hordes of fandom.  I have had a series of custom shirts made that state: “No, I am not World Famous Blogger Ben Wink, but thanks for asking!”  This definitely helps me to blend in with the plebs and other common folk.  I also had a jersey made that says that I’m a fan of the Dallas Yankee Heat.  This has helped me to confuse certain sections of the drooling public while assimilating with them at the same time as well.

However taking voluminous amounts of precious time to answer my several fan letters and summonses has not been the tremendous slice of pie that I was led to believe it would be.  It has been daunting.  I even had to run out and buy another book of stamps because I was almost out anyway.  But I was once like you.  I was a fan of things that I never made and people that I am not.  Along the way, I have brushed the teeth of fame and even flossed afterwards.  Now allow me to state the obvious question that is currently about to cross your mind and beat your mouth to the punch in saying it: “Gosh, Ben, which famous people have you experienced in your long and excruciatingly awe-inspiring life?!”  Funny you should ask in that predetermined-by-my-editing kind of way!

Obviously there is not enough bandwidth to explore all those amazing stars in the fame heavens that have crossed my path in just one go.  I mean I have to stretch this out as much as I can.  So with that mindset and without any more hesitation here are the fortunate famous folks that have had the honor of meeting me personally in person.

On a dark night back in 1999, I was privileged to go see the progressive rock band Yes in concert in Minneapolis, MN.  Ah, if you have never experienced the prog rock band crowd, you haven’t lived.  But that’s okay as they haven’t either.  Unless living in your mom’s basement through the tender age of 40 is called living.  But I kid the proggers as I like to call them.  (By the way, could you at least take out the garbage when you get home?  Thanks.)

The show started and a whirlwind of notes spun around into sheer tornadoes of 13 minute epics.  The only respite was when they played Owner of a Lonely Heart which was not only 4 minutes long but also resulted in women popping up out of nowhere, applauding because it was the only song they recognized.  This was truly amazing!  Women at a progalogdingdong concert?!  Actual women?  Not just Peter Gabriel wearing a dress?  Wow.  I was stunned.

But to make a long story short, which is hard for Yes to do in any case, lead singer Jon Anderson was having throat issues all night.  He thought he could muscle through it, but when your songs average 15 minutes each, it can get rather strained.  Finally he just gave up after a little over an hour of music, or three songs in Yes-speak.  What could we do but leave upon hearing the news?  We were just out of the building when we noticed activity in the alley behind the theater.  A friend of mine immediately recognized Steve Howe, the guitarist for the band, standing in the alley talking to fans.  Then he recognized bassist Chris Squire and drummer Alan White.

I know what you’re going to ask: Who in the hell would actually recognize these men?!  Well this good friend of mine actually brought some LP sleeves in the slim hope of getting autographs from these guys.  Yes dear reader, LP sleeves.  Thankfully the theater was dark so no one could see me sitting next to him.  But I kid because after hoping against hope, there they were signing autographs!  So he sidled on over to them to meet his prog heroes.  I simply shook hands with them and walked away from the ever-increasing throng of middle-aged men clad in tour shirts from 1975.  These poor shirts never planned on being stretched that thin over the intervening decades and were hoping for death or a tear that would take them out of the tour attendance wardrobe rotation.  Please pray for these shirts.

We left the teeming Minnesotan multitude with my friend’s items signed and joy in our collective hearts.  Truth be told, it was a rather neat thing the band did as they understood what a downer it was that they had to stop the show early.  Then again this wouldn’t have happened to me if I had seen The Bangles with Susanna Hoffs in person back in the day.  It of course would happen when I see rapidly aging British prog rock stars whose last hit was back in 1983.  (I was going to throw in “male” as a description as well, but as there are no other kinds of British prog rock stars it was therefore redundant.) 

So there you go!  I hope you enjoyed the first taste of those lucky famous people who have been supremely fortunate in meeting me.  I shall delve further into the files of memory and entrance you dear reader with my tales of adventure with the wildly well-known people that have met me.