Every so often (actually more times than not), I wake up at 4AM. Now for me, this is too early to begin my day, so I lie in my bed staring up at the ceiling and my over active brain takes over. This morning I silently mused about writing a letter to Oprah Winfrey. Not for any particular reason, maybe just the chance she would actually read it, get an “Aha” moment and realize she had just found the next great writer. So in my head I began to compose the letter. Dear Oprah…no, no, too familiar. Dear Ms. Winfrey, you are my biggest fan, er, I mean I am YOUR biggest fan. Oh boy, this is where I remember that in my past I was afflicted with starstruckitis. The symptoms of starstruckitis can cause a person to act uncharacteristically silly, exhibiting physical symptoms such as the temporary loss of speech, persistent giggling, and even fainting (such as experienced by fans of both Elvis and the Beatles).
It all started in my 20’s when a friend and I were invited to the filming of a Miami Vice episode. Just a normal day strolling around downtown Miami with the exception of a TV cast and crew blocking off a section of town. Then it happened, I had an out-of-body experience. As we peered under the stars’ trailer from one side to the other, I saw Don Johnson’s sockless, loafer ensconced feet descend down the steps and hit the pavement. An unknown force, unlike anything I had ever experienced gripped me. I let out a squeal, an unearthly sound that was followed by a fit of laughter verging on maniacal. My poor friend could only stand there dumbfounded, staring at me with her mouth agape. “Don Johnson, Don Johnson,” I chanted over and over. It was like I suddenly needed an exorcism.
Luckily, my friend did not abandon me out of utter embarrassment, and she shook me by the shoulders until I snapped out of it. “What happened?” I asked feebly. “You thought you saw Don Johnson’s shoes” she replied. “His shoes? Huh, wait. What do you mean thought?” “Well, it’s debatable, but it may have been his stunt double.” “What?” I said indignantly. “A stunt double?” “What a rip-off!” My friend only laughed and said I should just be glad that I didn’t get us kicked off the set. "Hmmm," I murmured, squinting through my sunglasses. “Alien abduction,” I announced. “What?” asked my friend. “Alien abduction. That’s what must have happened.” “Sure, you stick with that” she chuckled.
I believe my friend was just teasing me, and that it was indeed Don Johnson. I mean wasn’t it humiliating enough that I had a, um…let’s say overly exuberant outburst over just seeing Don Johnson’s feet, then to only have it be his double’s? Thankfully that was the first and last time I ever displayed such behavior, and I hear that once you have a case of starstruckitis you build up immunity. However I remain vigilant because I know if I am ever in the same room as Hugh Jackman, all bets are off!
Now back to that letter...
