How to fit in with stars, in your own mind.

I often feel like, during the quiet times of a game, that I could be a great friend to a star athlete.

I think, ‘You know I bet Joe Mauer would appreciate my banter.’ Or, ‘Ron Gardenhire would probably like to have me around, just as an apprentice or as a young man to impart wisdom to.’

To make sure that this doesn’t seem slightly demented or predatory let me also make it aware that I have had similar thoughts about Edward Norton.

I watched 25th Hour and I said to an actual human friend sitting next to me, ‘Well, I think he would like to have me around for a day or two.’

Very little of this comes from a true sense of self-vanity. Anyone who knows me well, knows that I think nothing of myself, except that I am always right. But, I am also fully capable of saying, ‘Well, let’s agree to disagree on this.’

Similar thoughts also creep up when I’m watching any kind of documentary or reading any great piece of journalism. I will either think, ‘You need to get off of your ass and go do a story like that,’ or, ‘I bet Bob Dylan, even in his old age, would find me useful in some way.’

What is interesting about this is that I - as a human being who exists in a plane of understanding that I, as myself, fully understand and comprehend - can’t even remotely stand to have a nice person come up and spark a conversation with me in public.

I usually find myself thinking, ‘Jackass, go get some friends, I’ve got three, and I can barely stand talking to them.’ So, it is probably odd that I think that some of the most famous people in their respective fields would just take to me like wildfire.

There is also the fact that most famous people are probably smug as hell. I remember thinking that Norton must be one of the most down-to-earth guys in the world. Then I heard he was doing an adaptation of ‘The Painted Veil,’ and well, that was that.

Still, I love the idea of Edward Norton. I love that he could be both my poker buddy and my heroin dealer or maybe my half-crazy, neo-Nazi friend who still knows how to find redemption through the self-actualization process of attending prison for a few years.

That Edward Norton, the one who embodies all of those characteristics, that guy would most likely like me and my ideas.

So, would Joe Mauer.

Did you know that Joe Mauer likes to watch the Discovery Channel? Guess who else likes to do that (when he can afford cable)?

How about the fact that 2006 American League MVP Justin Morneau likes to go to the Jimmy John’s on Grand Avenue before games. Do you know who eats at Jimmy John’s on Grand Avenue about three times a month?

Somewhere in all of this, there has to be a connection.

I know it is misguided, but I was raised in an era that provokes these ideas. All of my friends are, in some way, famous. Lets be honest, they have webpages and things of that nature. I resisted the temptation to be involved in these trades (facebook, etc.) for as long as possible, until I finally realized I was great at it.

It allows me to be very popular in a semi-reality where I can interact and have relationships without actually interacting or having relationships.

I thrive.

It’s sort of like having a relationship with a woman, even if that woman is a faceless name in cyberspace and our relationship exists on a computer screen. It’s real, because I’m experiencing it, and in a way, she is experiencing it as well.

We thrive.

I don’t need to know anything about anyone in our current technological age. I only need to know what I can make of them, in my own mind.

Who knows, Joe Mauer may be one of the most boring people on earth, but of course, he’s also a batting champion and a millionaire, which gives him two-up on me. But, who’s to say that I would even like him. Or that there would ever be an instance where we would have anything to say to one another.

When Edward Norton finally left me at his California split-level over looking The Canyon to go to Japan to work on another Maugham adaptation, would I still like him? What if Matt Damon never even stopped by the house while I was there, what then?

The way I see it, Modern America allows me to put part of my own self doubt and need into a fictional plane where my lack of accomplishments, and sense of stilted ambition, can be easily accepted by those with accomplishments obtained through ambition.

Surely, eventually, I will get somewhere near that feeling of knowing my own self as well as Joe Mauer seemingly knows himself. To be that assured, that accomplished.

If I don’t though, that’s alright, I imagine. Eventually my gifts will be realized by someone, somewhere, and if they are, then someone else, somewhere else, can look to me and imagine how I would appreciate them, if only they were real to me.