Normally, when I go about my business, I attempt to do so humbly and in a down-to-earth fashion as I maneuver my through the teaming masses all about me.
As I have noted previously, because of the high-profile nature of my posts at the Tattler - which run the gamut on a myriad of subjects both tame and controversial in nature - I am occasionally spotted in the crowd.
In fact, over the past few months the searing spotlight has become so intense, that I have found the phenomenon awkward to deal with now and then.
When folks spy me, then turn to friends and whisper.
Do you know who that is?
The experience tends to be a bit un-nerving.
Instead of moving on, folks tend to stand transfixed on the spot - as their jaw literally drops - and they take on the appearance of a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.
At this juncture, I generally give a little nod of encouragement - hold myself up as gracefully as possible - and meander on out-of-harm’s way.
Over the weekend, I encountered an unpleasant confrontation, when I struck up a conversation with a fellow traveler on public transportation.
“You look familiar. What do you do,” the hefty young black African woman quizzed.
“Oh, I’m a writer,” I found myself uttering up.
“Really?” she asked wide-eyed.
Uh-huh!
“Do you just like to think you are, or do you make your living doing that,” she probed further.
For moment, it was refreshing to encounter an individual who was unfamiliar with my blog, and the fame recognition that came with it.
So, I was inclined to continue the conversation expecting the interchange to be innocent enough.
But, the woman’s mood quickly changed as I revealed a few facts.
“I have advertisers on my web site and they generates revenue,” I noted.
“They pay for ads,” she continued a tad perplexed.
She was obviously clueless about bloggers like myself, so I made a bold-faced effort to help her along.
“Do you know who Perez Hilton is,” I innocently asked at this juncture.
“Oh yes,” she responded with enthusiasm.
“Well, I’m kind-of-like Perez, but our styles are quite different.”
When I innocently revealed that on occasion I felt like I was an alien from outer space when browsers from the Internet recognized me on the street, she reacted angrily.
“Boy. You're so grandiose,” she accused, as she began to scrutinize me up close.
"What do you mean," I probed further, since her comment didn’t appear to make any sense in view of the way in which I handle my fame.
“No one recognizes you,,” she hissed.
“You’re just imagining it.”
Of course, I nearly laughed out loud, since the notion - in view of my daily experiences out in the public domain - was so wild and preposterous.
“I know who I am,” I found myself responding.
But, the strange encounter reminded me - that no matter how successful or famous an individual becomes - there will always be someone who is out-of-the-loop.
Just last year, if I am not mistaken, Bob Dylan was thought to be a "bum” by some silly fool who didn’t recognize the musician wandering about his property.
Daily, there are many ironies that underscore the reality of fame (and how fleeting it is).
When a celebrity slips and falls into a prickly cactus bush, there is a posse of paparazzi there, who is at-the-ready to spring into action and capture the star-turn on film.
The same individual may walk into a bank to cash a check, and find themselves rudely badgered by a cashier, who has no idea who the celebrity is.
In sum, it's a humbling experience, wise to pay heed to.
Otherwise, the “celebrity” will find themselves in an unpleasant exchange in which they end up being criticized for bellowing an old familiar lament to some common Joe in a restaurant or on the street.
“Don’t you know who I am?"
Ouch!
The scenario goes down, alright, but - when it does - it’s usually an unpleasant experience that leaves a bad taste in the mouth.
The jarring conduct of the woman taught me a lesson.
In the public arena, it’s best to slip gracefully among the common masses, with as little contact as possible.
The old-fashioned idea of striking up friendships with strangers by invitation only in accordance with polite society makes more practical sense in a global community that is fast-becoming cold and unfeeling and rife with bad manners and rude conduct.
I am reminded of an old biblical saying:
“Never throw pearls before swine.”
Amen!
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