Pseudo Celeb - John Boehner
"People Start Pollution. People can stop it."
He was sitting at his table with a sammich in one hand and his phone in the other. His texting thumb was a blur. Bites occasionally disappeared from his sammich, but his eyes never left that phone.
As I walked by I paused. He didn't notice. I waved. Nothing. I kicked his chair and yelled "BOO!". His focus never wavered.
I pulled his tie loose and emptied a ketchup packet in his shirt pocket, but he didn't so much as blink. His texting thumb never slowed down, either.
I can't look away
He was sending and receiving Nancy Pelosi jokes.
Naturally.
Labels: Pseudo Celebrity
posted by jeff.w.mcclung @ 8:30 AM
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It was clearly him, not a look-alike. He had his wife and kids, plus his parents (or his in-laws). They brought their own monogram'ed orange Pistol Pete napkins. He was wearing OSU apparel, and the waitresses happily curtsied and called him, "Lord Budke".
"I don't know who you're talking about," he claimed. There was a place card in front of him that said, "K. Budke". "That's not me," he said, unconvincingly. "We're squatters."
"It's my maiden name," he said.
Up first was the young lady behind the counter. She didn't look like anybody famous, but she sounded like one.
The actual eye doctor reminded me of Doogie Howser because he was younger than me. I'm not old enough to have doctors that are younger than me!
Of course it wasn't *really* her, but she was close enough for jazz. Honestly, I was a bit star-struck. I reminded myself that near-celebrities are people too, and pledged to act naturally.
Sensing an easy sale, she directed me to the most expensive frames they had.
During the meal, there was a crashing sound as a waitress spilled a tray of food on some poor patron. I don't know if young Mr. Potter was involved, but I like to think so. Maybe she was distracted by his dashing good looks and tripped, or maybe the mischievous little scamp cast a fumble-foot spell on her as she walked by.
OK, so his *real* name is Sherman Hemsley. Like you would have known that. I wouldn't have known it if not for the glory of Wikipedia.
My wife and I were at the Cracker Barrel, and a guy walked in who was a dead ringer for Don Rickles!
My wife and I were out to lunch last weekend, and saw a Hillary Clinton look-alike at a nearby table.
While I was out to lunch one day last week, I saw a Dr. Phil McGraw look-alike.
A waitress-type wandered by. Golfer was grabbing his fork to attack the last of his lunch as she came up to our table. She looked directly at me and said, "May I take your plates?" I said yes.
We quickly sorted out the error, and our overly enthusiastic friend took my dishes (*only* my dishes) back to the kitchen. She probably also had a quick cry and changed her trousers.
In the cello section, we saw Wolf Blitzer! He was obviously deep undercover, in search of a story. I'd bet on seeing one of those "Special Report With..." thingies on the news any day now. I'd bet that 4th trumpet player who couldn't stay awake was really a foreign spy. Or maybe he's trying to track down the latest super-celebrity criminal trial gossip, which would mean...
OK, I know all of these are at least a little bit weird. But even so, I never expected to see Wilford Brimley in a convertable.
The guy looked like Willy on Slim-Fast, rippin' down the streets of Tulsa in a top-down chic magnet.
When we arrived, there was a short wait. The guy at the host stand had a "Cousin Itt" hairdo. Most of his face was covered by his long locks. 
I didn't want to stare, because he saw me notice him. There was the whole, "Hey, don't you look like...?" thing goin' on. But there was also the "Why do you have a yellow Christmas bow in your hair?" thing to further confuse matters.
First up, was Drew Barrymore, sorta. She was our waitress at dinner before the show. She looked a lot like Drew, except that her hair was brunette and she wore glasses.
John Cleese. The guy was a dead ringer. I was in awe. I had to fight an urge to ask him if he had noticed the violence inherent in the system.
A young Richard Simmons. Same hairstyle (no graying or balding, of course), same hands-on-hips stance, same goofy smile. There is, of course, only one thing to do when you encounter a Richard Simmons look-alike. Run.
Amanda Plummer. This one is a little obscure. She played Honey Bunny in Pulp Fiction. Thankfully, she wasn't shooting anybody during the performance.
Finally, in the orchestra itself, I saw a Jack Black look-alike! He was in the back row of violins. This was the "fuzzy-haired bearded" incarnation of Mr. Black.
Sadly, Elmo remains MIA (Sorry, V!).
Last Friday I saw an Al Sharpton look-alike during my lunch break. I didn't say anything to him. I wanted to make sure I didn't offend him. I'd hate to have him launch a righteous crusade against me. I also made sure there were no cameras around... it could be dangerous to get between Al and a camera.
Saturday morning before the Zoo trip, I saw another Hurley look-alike during lunch. Oddly enough, it was another woman. Lunch lost some of its appeal at that point.
Saturday, after the Zoo trip, I saw a Santa look-alike while we were walking toward the car. Now we know where the jolly old elf goes for vacations. He wasn't wearing his big white coat, but that's OK. I know he's real now.
On a related note, I still haven't seen Elmo. I keep hoping I'll run across him during my lunch break some day. Either him, or Richard Simmons. The sillier the better, I always say.
