If not now, when?

One American woman. Twenty acres and a 1650 farmhouse in Tuscany. Random introspection and hilarity, depending on the day.

12 June 2006

Not washing the passenger seat of my car.

As an adult, I have not normally been a starstruck person.

Ye ole' day job affords me the opportunity to work and brush shoulders relatively frequently with celebrities, both major and minor, and generally I find they fall into two categories:

A) The majority of them are hopelessly over-handled - so it's difficult to discern what is the will of the "TALENT" vs. the interest of the Snooty Assistant (yes, there are great horror/gossip stories here.) They generally are passably-but-not-particularly-pleasant, going through the motions, good at what they do but generally waaaaay overrated. Not anyone I'd choose to spend a bunch of time with, even if I do have the keys to the "green room."

B) A rare few are truly delightful people, who connect on a human level, who are doing their job (of being famous) but are real people beneath it all, those who mean it when they say, "I hope you'll give me a call next time you're in ... (blank)"

No matter WHICH of these categories said celeb falls into, I typically feel (and treat them as if) they put their pants on one-leg-at-a-time, just like me. And quite frankly, I'm not a swooner. I don't ask for pictures or autographs, it's just not my style.
(Unlike my cute Sis, who once accosted Adrian Zmed in a Mexican restaurant -- I mean, ADRIAN ZMED?!? is he even a celebrity?!?! Did anyone even SEE Grease II other than my sis and her friends?) Anyhow - no pics or autographs for me... I always ask myself, where would I put them all anyway, and what do they prove?

That said, tonight I was taken by surprise by a surprise celebrity experience. I drove a world-renowned orchestra conductor (and harpsichordist) to dinner ... in Simple Simon, the super-farm-car.

For a quick moment, I thought I should be embarrassed. This guy is probably used to town cars.

But then again, if he's anyone I actually want to know, he appreciates the humanity of it all. For *!&$^!@'s sake, when in Tuscany, travel like a Tuscan.

And he did. And I'm happy to report, he's DELIGHTFUL. Someone I'd hang out with in the 'hood. During the ride and dinner, we chatted comfortably about being workaholics, dating after a long-term relationship ends, life on the road.


In 24 hours, I've heard two full concerts of his -- both private, featuring music of Handel ... last night for 125 people - dinner in a historic villa, guest counter-tenor, the works. The second - more informal, today, at a friend's home for about 20 people after tea. Damn, I am living sooooo far out of my social order here (!)

And both times, I was completely mesmerized. Enthralled. Hypnotized by his hands on the keyboard (I had a front-row-to-his-right seat at the larger concert and it was incredible to watch him.) I'll be candid: classical music has for a long time baffled me -- my own musical talents running more towards "shower singing" and "showtunes" -- but I have always been transfixed seeing it performed in person.

And so, reminding me of the way that I once-upon-a-time had posters of Davy Jones on my bedroom walls, I'm newly crushing on a harpsichordist-slash-conductor, in an entirely different way (meaning, I'm amazon searching to buy a CD.) Though they are both British, it's nice to see my musical tastes have evolved a bit over the years. Besides, I just don't see pinning an "American Idol" poster to the wall of the stone farmhouse.

And it just happens that he's young and apparently quite the up-and-comer. For all my readers who are crazed harpsichord fans, and/or the rest of you who might be remotely inclined to classical music, this is my hot tip of the year for you: Laurence Cummings. Google away.

And if you live in Boston, apparently he's conducting something there in September and December at the Shubert. Seriously, check it out. Tell him you know the girl in Tuscany who took him for a ride to dinner in Simon the farm car. And, please, don't ask him for his autograph, I mean, REALLY ... famous harpsichordists must get that ALL the time.

5 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Don't be dissing on ADRIAN ZMED! He's the glue that held "Bachelor Party" together!

The harpsichord? Really? I thought that was one of those things that went away in the middle ages.

DaisyBoy

7:13 PM  
Blogger I'm Just a Girl said...

OMG, Davey Jones. That brings back so many memories. ("I'm going to be with Davey, YOU can be with Mickey!") I am always in awe of piano players. Even though I played two instruments the one I kick myself for ignoring growing up was the piano. It would have been so easy, seeing as we had one in our living room!

12:28 AM  
Blogger Cupcake said...

A girl I worked with years ago once shagged Adrian Zmed. She said he was a great kisser but that's where his talents, I am sad to report, stopped. If I can brag, I once hugged Wayne Newton - bedecked in a black velour bath robe with a big golden "W" embroidered on the left lapel - in his dressing room at the Las Vegas Hilton.

I'm not sure how that stacks up with driving a world-renowned harpsichordist to dinner, but I feel the need to boast in an attempt to cover up feelings of inadequacy.

2:31 AM  
Blogger Danza Sorellina said...

Who could forget the encouter at the mexican restaurant? I still have that autograph from Adrian Zmed. He was nice enough but still seemed to be bothered by being asked for an autograph. What is it with the D list celebs? And to Daisy Boy- he was the glue that held that movie together!

4:14 PM  
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