Wednesday
27Sep2006
Great Balls Of Fire!
No, The Surge does not have an itchy case of crabs taking over his nether regions. I'm talkin' Great Balls Of Fire!! Jerry Lee Lewis style. Of course, knowing Lewis, a bad bout with crabs or maybe a severe case of blue balls inspired the classic tune in the first place.. but that's neither here nor there. What I'm laboring to impart to you, gentle reader, is the fact that I sat in on a Jerry Lee Lewis piano extravaganza! "The Killer" (Jerry's handle round most parts) tickled the ivories of the blood red piano with panache and his voiced sounded superb.
The Surge, who, along with millions of other citizens of rock, considers Lewis the king of rock'n'roll, stood there in the record store with an enormous grin splitting his beard nearly in half. Really. You would have thought I just handed him a home-made coupon book with 100 "Bearer Entitled To Sex With Monica Today" coupons tucked inside. Although come to think of it, if this unemployment thing continues into December that coupon book may very well be all The Surge can expect under the Christmas tree.
Fifty years ago Lewis recorded for Sun Records with Elvis Presley, Johnny Cash, Roy Orbison and Carl Perkins. All of 'em are dead now, of course. And still, Lewis plays on. If you've seen Walk The Line, the Johnny Cash biopic then you probably remember the depiction of Lewis as the crazy-talented, wild boy who loved the ladies (including his 13 year old cousin, once removed) and was known to upstage Cash and even Elvis. He used to set his piano on fire for Godsakes! In short, dude's a legend.
As he made his way out of the in-store performance Jerry Lee Lewis approached The Surge, shook his hand and smiled. I was so flummoxed by my proximity to the man, the myth etc.. that I only managed to snap a few poorly framed photographs. I guess you could say he shook my nerves and he rattled my brain. (hey-OH!!)
What, you ask, could possibly top a close encounter with Jerry Lee Lewis? I'm going to play a Leonardo DiCaprio and raise you a Jack Nicholson. And a Martin Scorsese and a Bono and a Matt Damon and a Lou Reed and a Billy Joel and an Alec Baldwin. That's pretty much a royal flush, by Hollywood standards. No shit. After the Jerry Lee Lewis gig we rounded the corner and walked smack into a premiere for The Departed, Scorsese's new flick starring DiCaprio and company.
We stood there, mouths agape as sleek limousines slid up and spit one famous celeb after the other onto the storied street in front of Ziegfeld Theater. First Matt Damon. Then Alec Baldwin and Billy Joel. Lou Reed nearly sprinted down the red carpet into the theater in an effort to avoid the screaming press lines. Bono and The Edge pretty much ignored the crowd and headed straight to the red carpet and the phalanx of reporters whose constantly flashing cameras nearly sent those of us perched across the street into epileptic fits. Then Jack arrived, stepping from his limo and flashing his trademark grin to the assembled before he was promptly swallowed by the crowd of mucky-mucks shmoozing on the red carpet. Bummer. No time to get any good photographs of the man who alternately scared the shit outta me (The Shining) or had me crying (One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest) during my formative years.
"Mommy why won't the movie stars come to this side and visit us?" A sweet, little girl clutching the metal barrier nearby asked.
"I don't know honey. I guess they want to make it inside before the movie starts."
Just then, a small, eco-friendly car rolled up. Eyes scouting for limousines and giant SUV's, most of us in the crowd ignored the tiny car. Until Leo DiCaprio popped out and strolled right over to the barrier behind which I stood. I, who up until this point had managed to keep my cool, rolling my eyes at the giggling gaggles around me who screamed like banshees every time a limo rolled up, immediately lost my shit and screamed louder than the adorable nine year old standing next to me. Jesus, I probably knocked her down and trampled the poor thing in my excitement that Leo was standing not two feet from me!
Me, the girl that viciously decried all the swooners that fell in love with Leo after the Titanic phenomenon swept the world - I was screaming like a bobbie soxer for a 25 year old Sinatra. "Sure Titanic was a good movie", I'd say as this friend or that cranked up that damn Celine Deon song and cried for the drowned Jack Dawson. "It was historically accurate, excellent action etc.. But the script was for shit! I'm the king of the world. Please. I've witnessed better dialogue on Days Of Our Lives for crying out loud!" They just snuffled, called me callous and turned up that oversinging automaton Celine in all her chest thumping annoyingness.
I longed for the days before Leo rode the Titanic to superstardom, when he turned out performances like What's Eating Gilbert Grape, Marvin's Room and The Basketball Diaries. I was even okay with the acid trip that was Romeo and Juliet regardless of the fact that I wanted to sock Clare Danes squarely in the jaw. I don't know why. I just did. Some actresses have that affect on me. That priss Nicole Kidman, for example, could use a painful nipple tweaking and I hate Catherine Zeta-Jones on sight. It can't be explained. I wrote off Leo as another blockbuster chaser and gave him over to the millions of tween girls the world over. Yet there I was last night, nearly kneeing The Surge in the balls then vaulting over the metal fence in all my twenty-nine year old glory and pouncing on my new husband Leonardo DiCaprio.
He was lovely. And unlike my encounter with the aforementioned Ms. Kidman in which I panicked and failed to properly document my celebrity elbow rubbing for posterity, this time I managed to collect my senses long enough to take a photograph so you don't think I'm making the whole thing up.
The Surge, who, along with millions of other citizens of rock, considers Lewis the king of rock'n'roll, stood there in the record store with an enormous grin splitting his beard nearly in half. Really. You would have thought I just handed him a home-made coupon book with 100 "Bearer Entitled To Sex With Monica Today" coupons tucked inside. Although come to think of it, if this unemployment thing continues into December that coupon book may very well be all The Surge can expect under the Christmas tree.
Fifty years ago Lewis recorded for Sun Records with Elvis Presley, Johnny Cash, Roy Orbison and Carl Perkins. All of 'em are dead now, of course. And still, Lewis plays on. If you've seen Walk The Line, the Johnny Cash biopic then you probably remember the depiction of Lewis as the crazy-talented, wild boy who loved the ladies (including his 13 year old cousin, once removed) and was known to upstage Cash and even Elvis. He used to set his piano on fire for Godsakes! In short, dude's a legend.
As he made his way out of the in-store performance Jerry Lee Lewis approached The Surge, shook his hand and smiled. I was so flummoxed by my proximity to the man, the myth etc.. that I only managed to snap a few poorly framed photographs. I guess you could say he shook my nerves and he rattled my brain. (hey-OH!!)
What, you ask, could possibly top a close encounter with Jerry Lee Lewis? I'm going to play a Leonardo DiCaprio and raise you a Jack Nicholson. And a Martin Scorsese and a Bono and a Matt Damon and a Lou Reed and a Billy Joel and an Alec Baldwin. That's pretty much a royal flush, by Hollywood standards. No shit. After the Jerry Lee Lewis gig we rounded the corner and walked smack into a premiere for The Departed, Scorsese's new flick starring DiCaprio and company.
We stood there, mouths agape as sleek limousines slid up and spit one famous celeb after the other onto the storied street in front of Ziegfeld Theater. First Matt Damon. Then Alec Baldwin and Billy Joel. Lou Reed nearly sprinted down the red carpet into the theater in an effort to avoid the screaming press lines. Bono and The Edge pretty much ignored the crowd and headed straight to the red carpet and the phalanx of reporters whose constantly flashing cameras nearly sent those of us perched across the street into epileptic fits. Then Jack arrived, stepping from his limo and flashing his trademark grin to the assembled before he was promptly swallowed by the crowd of mucky-mucks shmoozing on the red carpet. Bummer. No time to get any good photographs of the man who alternately scared the shit outta me (The Shining) or had me crying (One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest) during my formative years.
"Mommy why won't the movie stars come to this side and visit us?" A sweet, little girl clutching the metal barrier nearby asked.
"I don't know honey. I guess they want to make it inside before the movie starts."
Just then, a small, eco-friendly car rolled up. Eyes scouting for limousines and giant SUV's, most of us in the crowd ignored the tiny car. Until Leo DiCaprio popped out and strolled right over to the barrier behind which I stood. I, who up until this point had managed to keep my cool, rolling my eyes at the giggling gaggles around me who screamed like banshees every time a limo rolled up, immediately lost my shit and screamed louder than the adorable nine year old standing next to me. Jesus, I probably knocked her down and trampled the poor thing in my excitement that Leo was standing not two feet from me!
Me, the girl that viciously decried all the swooners that fell in love with Leo after the Titanic phenomenon swept the world - I was screaming like a bobbie soxer for a 25 year old Sinatra. "Sure Titanic was a good movie", I'd say as this friend or that cranked up that damn Celine Deon song and cried for the drowned Jack Dawson. "It was historically accurate, excellent action etc.. But the script was for shit! I'm the king of the world. Please. I've witnessed better dialogue on Days Of Our Lives for crying out loud!" They just snuffled, called me callous and turned up that oversinging automaton Celine in all her chest thumping annoyingness.
I longed for the days before Leo rode the Titanic to superstardom, when he turned out performances like What's Eating Gilbert Grape, Marvin's Room and The Basketball Diaries. I was even okay with the acid trip that was Romeo and Juliet regardless of the fact that I wanted to sock Clare Danes squarely in the jaw. I don't know why. I just did. Some actresses have that affect on me. That priss Nicole Kidman, for example, could use a painful nipple tweaking and I hate Catherine Zeta-Jones on sight. It can't be explained. I wrote off Leo as another blockbuster chaser and gave him over to the millions of tween girls the world over. Yet there I was last night, nearly kneeing The Surge in the balls then vaulting over the metal fence in all my twenty-nine year old glory and pouncing on my new husband Leonardo DiCaprio.
He was lovely. And unlike my encounter with the aforementioned Ms. Kidman in which I panicked and failed to properly document my celebrity elbow rubbing for posterity, this time I managed to collect my senses long enough to take a photograph so you don't think I'm making the whole thing up.
Sep 27, 2006
Reader Comments (26)
Something about Jerry Lee Lewis with his 13 year old cousin has always made me feel dirty. Just the idea, dirty dirty dirty.
I had a completely random sighting myself today. I was walking down 57th Street when I swore I saw Bono. After a few more conspicuous stolls back and forth by where he was standing, I was sure it was him. And, now I know he indeed in town. (Sadly no Edge sighting though - I totally dig The Edge!) Unfortunately, I'm terrible with celeb sightings and was too embarrassed to go up and speak to him or to take a picture. Ah, there's always next time ...
As for the celebrities, my husband really wants to see The Departed, so I had to tell him about your encounter as soon as I read the post. Personally, I don't care much about Leonardo DiCaprio, but I love Jack Nicholson, he is definitely one of my favorite actors.
My Sydney celebrity sightings have been limited to Tom Cruise (my dogs bowled over his kids at the park..fortunately he was cool about it) and Ewan McGregor...once again the dogs initiated that one.(I was sufficiently drunk so as not to realise who I was talking to until one of the barmaids told me)
Agree about Nicole though.....shopping on Oxford Street and walked into a shop to see Nicole and her sister there. I think she is the tallest woman I have ever seen. And looks just like she does in photos - flawless.
I need to move my butt up to NYC so I can have me a celeb sighting!
either that or it will be the GREATEST FILM OF ALL TIME.
and why take pictures of leo when the real prize, nicholson, was in your line of sight somewhere?
And now we have the shining Jack Nicholson. Sorry people. I’m a fan of Jack too. But Jack Nicholson is an old prune. It’s just not really an appropriate relationship.
If the press poked fun and ridiculed this sort of behavior it would help show others it’s not appropriate and maybe drive it back into the shadows where it belongs. Instead they collectively choose to celebrate it.
I really think we are all being tested here as we pass thorough this earth. Certain people have and are being more tested than others.To sort of "observe" how we behave independently when given the controls (so to speak). Its just a personal belief. I think Mormonism has a similair belief about this to no?
Anyways - Jack Nicholson is just another Mick Jaggier or Sean Connery who uses his prestige and power - to nail as many women as he can.
This “aspiring actress” in question is only 22 years old. The age differnce is just too much. It sends a certain message to the rest of society.