So I met Steven Spielberg. Yes, I met Steven Spielberg. Well, I sort of met him. No, I didn't see him at a distance, like down the street or thru the window at some department store. No, I didn't see him give a lecture about film making. No, I didn't see him shooting a scene for his latest film on Hollywood Boulevard while security swarms him. I met Steven Spielberg.
It is a benefit of working at a magnet beverage and food outpost at a key location. Apparently he is a casual regular. When I say casual regular, I mean he comes in from time to time, like every so often, like now and then, like pops in once and a while. All I can say is he ordered a grande 3 pump, no water, no foam chai latte.
It was exciting. It was very exciting. It was very exciting for a guy who doesn't even really like Spielberg's work that much. Come on, does it ever get better than Jaws, Close Encounters and the first Indiana Jones film? I think it's hills and valleys after that with more valleys than mountainous peaks. In the end, we didn't talk about that.
I had an urge to debate film with him. I had wanted to tell him that many of his films are simply frustrating and that he sells out far too often for the most powerful film maker in the world. Oh and he is the most powerful film maker in the world, there is little debate to that. If he wanted to do a film about peanut butter, squirrels and shag carpet, as an allegory for the economic struggles we are facing, he could. The Peanut Butter Tales of Tobey the Rabbit would be green lit in under eighteen minutes. In the end, I didn't debate film with him but on a lighter note, part of me also wanted to say that Animaniacs ruled!
No, I didn't bring up the movies at all. I didn't even bring up my own film pursuits or that it would be a dream to work with him. I didn't tell him how much I love the last hour of Jaws or that I read his autobiography as a boy. I did not tell him that my father and I have a close connection through movies like he and his own father. I didn't tell him anything personal about myself. I wanted to. I wanted to ask him for his autograph. My father thought I should have asked. I didn't do anything a starstruck person should do. Yes, I was starstruck. How could I not be? I may not like your films that much Mr. Spielberg but I'd be a foolish fool in failing to recognize that you are the most famous and powerful film maker of your generation and that is impressive whether a nobody like me likes your movies or not.
What did we talk about? I simply asked him for his order, double checked it, double checked it again because I had it incorrectly written on the first cup, asked about his morning and what may come throughout the day. I might have said something silly or stupid that caused a polite chuckle out of him. I don't know much other than his order but I do know that he was polite, soft spoken and just like you or me. All of which made the experience far greater.
Maybe I am a coward for not advancing my career. Maybe I should have made an attempt for an autograph. Maybe I should have done more? Then again, maybe by treating him as a normal person, I did the right thing. I think I did. Would it have been nice to get noticed? Yes, but I still have some dignity and can respect a man just trying to start of his day with a little chai.
until we meet again Mr. Spielberg.
oh well...
No comments:
Post a Comment