when faced with greatness, it is good after the fact to step back and reflect on things one can learn about one's self.
I learned the following:
I am a terrible photographer
I would certainly be no good at paparazzi
I am rendered absolutely speechless, devoid of almost any intelligent thought.
while walking along a sidewalk in beverly hills, a non descript black mercedes pulled up in front of us. three people got out, walked by us and into tom's toys on beverly drive. one was a stout austrian (who I didn't notice), one a gaunt tall gothic woman and the third looked like a short, old, skinny mick jagger. astounded that he just walked within two feet of me, I turned to my friends. chris's mouth was as open as mine, paul didn't see what we saw at all.
"are you f*cking kidding me?"
we walked across the street, and in my head I figured he had to be the leader of a tribute band and not the real thing. both friends said, you gotta do it, man, you live for this sh!t.
so I traced our steps back across the street and into the toy store. there he was. it was mick f*cking jagger (from now on, his full name). he was observing a puzzle type toy and he walked over to the counter and began asking the shop keeper about it. whether it was good for a 2 year old boy. there was the austrian looking guy (who I hadn't seen before). He was clearly not shopping and I figured he was "loitering" trying to get a better look at mick f*cking jagger like I was. he had his motorola razor out and I was sure he was contemplating the same thing I was… "how do I get a good photo in without pissing him off?" then I noticed the austrian guy was staring at me quite a bit. and I thought, dude, I am NOBODY. that's mick f*cking jagger.
so I loitered around the store trying to come up with something to say to him. anything. this, the co-author of the soundtrack to various scenes of my life. I can basically recite word for word every lyric from let it bleed, sticky fingers, exile and some girls. but of course, all I can think of is… "man, those are some ugly nikes you've got. and you're shorter than I am?!?"
my mama taught me better, so I said nothing. I walked by the austrian guy and simply said, "unf*ckingbelievable."
walked back to my friends. we got the car. outside the garage, the mercedes was still there, so we did what anyone would do. we sat there and we stalked. mick f*cking jagger came out of the shop and walked right by our car. my camera was out and in my lap. saw his face clear as day. then I took two photos of the side and back of his head.
here are the photos, so anyone reading this can be sure.
(sure that I am not a photographer, not that it was mick. you can't tell who that is in the photos.)
to date I still can't think of what I should've said. but I'm working on it for next time.