Part 3: Rocco, T. Duffy and Bob, Oh My!!!

It's taken a while to get back to this (I site creepy neighbors and creepier writer's block.  This has nothing, NOTHING I say, to do with procrastination). 

I started this blog because I function well in a forum for monologuing (and because my sister and the OY department bullied me). I like to think that I can at least entertain (if not help) others by sharing amusing (and hopefully useful) observations and stories.  One of the things that kept me away from finishing this little series was the concern that these entries would only be interesting to me...and a few others.  Was I falling into the BBT?  The Boring Blog Trap?  Sigh.

Oral tradition is alive and well in my life.  I come from a story telling family; over the years, I consistently make friends with story telling (or listening) people.  However, unlike the other stories that get told  (and retold, and retold) in my circles of friends, this one is only between Elle and me.  While we never get tired of reliving this night, we seldom tell it anymore.  Because it's something that happened to just us, it's the kind of story that's fun for everyone else to hear...once.  Maaaaybe twice. 

Since it doesn't get retold, it is in danger of losing details.  Even as I prepared for this entry, as Elle and I got all excited about it, we discovered that she and I remembered (and forgot) different things about that night. 

In conclusion:  the reason I wanted to share this story is that I want a record of it. 

So.  After this (and it's conclusion) I promise not to make too many entries of this kind.  That having been said...


As I mentioned before, we had no desire whatsoever to drive a car in Boston.  Therefore, I GPSed our way to Alewife parking garage/train station while Elle watched All Saints Day on the shotgun side.  It wasn't the best way to see it, but the sequel's villain would be at the party, and most (if not all) of the people attending will have seen it.  Avoiding Spoiler Poisoning 101. 

We parked, realized how suburbanite we've become (ticket purchasing has changed a LOT from the mid-90s, pre-everyone-using-plastic-for-everything days), amused an information desk person with our naivete, bought train tickets and got our happy asses on the train. 

And this is the point where we started slipping down the slope.  The slope of age.  By the time we arrived at the club on Commonwealth Avenue, we were twitching and laughing and, literally, wide eyed as two teenagers.  Folks who know me personally can attest I don't often go the the Giddy Place - but there I was.

"And to make a long story short (too late!) one by one (we) all arrived."  - Tim Curry, as Wadsworth, Clue

Arrived, got inside, whatever.

Breezing through impromptu Christmas shopping at the concert kiosk-esque counter and making small talk with other fans...one woman (who apparently follows them around the country) casually mentioned that David Della Rocco's in the lobby.  I'd like to pretend that we absorbed that information with cool detachment and politely found a way to saunter out to the lobby.

But we didn't.  Again, teenage girls.  To our credit, though we practically Harry Potter Apparated to the lobby, no squeally, squeaky, "omigodomigodomigod there he is!" nonsense came from us.

In the movies, Rocco is funny, loud and spends most of his time looking unkempt, unshowered and sweaty.  In real life, he is still funny, but fairly soft spoken and quite clean. He graciously posed arm in arm for pictures, signed the back of my phone when I couldn't find a piece of paper (of ALL of the things not to bring???) and humored us with some friendly chit chat. 

Well, humored me.  I found out later that as I was getting my phone back from the person who took the picture, he had quietly asked Elle: "Would it be alright if we just stayed this way?"

Now, Elle may be a #3 - but that's only in her choice between Connor and Murph.  Just as I had come primarily to meet Norman Reedus - she was there to meet David Della Rocco.  She tells this part of the story with lots of happy, happy sound effects - but I was there, and can attest that, when I saw him discretely whispering to her, her response was pleased but dignified.

The next couple of hours went by in a bit of a blur, punctuated by moments of clarity.  Specifically, when Troy's pen ran out of ink just as he was to give me an autograph, he put up his hands, said "WAIT HERE. I'LL BE RIGHT BACK", left, and actually DID work his way back through the (enormous) crowd to find me, and get back to taking pictures and signing things. 

With Bob, my freaking camera wouldn't work - but he waited...and waited...and waited.  Since there were so many people waiting to get their pictures/autographs, I felt badly and told him not to worry about it.  He looked at me and said "Don't worry, sweethaaht" (love his Maine accent), "I'm not going anywhere, you just tell me when it stahts working."  He turned, signed, posed, etc.,

Eventually, the camera got back in the game, but I figured it had been too long...he was busy...ah well...

(tap, tap, tap) "So is you're camera working yet?"

Which brings me to what is probably the most important thing I took from this evening. 

When you read about celebrities, or see their pictures, or watch them in interviews - you, or at least I, wonder - "yeah, but are they nice in real life?" Troy Duffy, especially, has been painted with a very dirty brush as being an egomaniac, a jerk.

These men are honestly decent sorts.  Bob didn't have to take the time to talk to me again, and if Troy is an egomaniac/jerk...I didn't see it.

Cynically, you could argue that Elle and I are women and, while not supermodels, still attractive.  Maybe they were flirting.  However.  Those men took the time to sign and pose for everyone.  They took just as much (obvious) enjoyment from hanging out with the men who were there to meet them as they did with the women (no matter how young, or scantily clad).

Yes, they're famous.  Yes, they're adored.  Yes, they have a fan base so rabid that, after 10 years a movie that went straight to video got a theater released sequel.  But...

They genuinely know, understand and appreciate why they have all of that.  You could see it in all of their faces - they really love their fans and were enjoying the opportunity to interact with us.

There I am, in the middle of a crowd, savoring this epiphany, when Elle gives me a tap, points over my shoulder and says, "There's your boy."