Tonight I saw Hedwig with Neil Patrick Harris. It was great. Afterward I lingered by the stage door, figuring why not. The guy from Once signed our Playbills, so that was cool. While standing among the Hed-heads, one of them remarked hey that guy over there is someone. How do we know him? I realized THATS JOHN CAMERON MITCHELL. I left the NPH line to run over and interrupt his life, something I never do. I didn’t ask for a photo, figuring that would be annoying (which I’m now cursing myself for not being annoying. I was already interrupting his convo with friends like an asshole) but stammered “I got out of the Neil Patrick line.” He just hugged me and kissed my cheek.
To back up, in college I lived in LA for a semester doing film stuff at USC. I read a great review in LA Weekly about a new movie about a drag queen. Since I was into seeing indie movies at the time I dragged my friend Nell along. Then a few weeks later I dragged my boyfriend. Everyone loved it. I bought the soundtrack. I bought the DVD. I wrote the lyrics to Wicked Little Town (reprise) in a breakup note to a loser.
"You don’t care about celebrities," my husband said after I recounted my JCM hug, tears in my eyes. We have had exposure to lots of them through our jobs (mostly Mikes). "You didn’t care about Sean Penn, Ben Stiller, Casey Affleck, Ted Danson. You asked Mary Steenburgen to take a picture for you!" It’s true, but those people had no meaning in my life! I explained. They’re just famous people, but mean nothing to me. JCM has meaning!
It was a good night. :)