Halloween Proved It, I've Become a Character
It's not often when you recognize stepping stones in your life right at the moment they happen. Usually, when epiphanies occur, they dawn on you gradually. Not so for this guy on Halloween. I had a rare occurrence. A moment of pure clarity. A moment I knew I'd never forget. And perhaps, an event that has altered me forever...
This Halloween, my roommates and I hosted our 1st, and likely last, Halloween party. Our party was no different than pretty much any other Halloween party out there. We had candy, we had beer, we had fruity vodka cocktails, and we had the standard Halloween party mix blaring on the iTunes (interrupted only a dozen or so times by the likes of Miley Cyrus and Lonely Island). There was Flip Pong, there were keg stands, and there were lots of awesome costumes. In essence, our party was the Halloween party you went to or hosted yourself. Nothing out of the (extra)ordinary. Little did I know that my life would change this Halloween night. A sense of validation and humiliation at once was to come. It was on its way.
If you know me at all, you know I've chased the fame dragon for a long time. As a child, I took acting lessons with hopes of becoming a star. In my preteens I wrote to both Steven Spielberg and 20th Century Fox studios to give the former my thoughts on how to make Gremlins a successful franchise (for example having really cool sequel names like Gremlins 5: The Baddest Batch) and the latter a good idea on how to follow-up Aliens. I can't remember what my suggestion was for that one, but I can assure you it was better than what the studio actually released in the years to follow (seriouslyAlien3, you took all that was great and important about Aliens and you killed it, as well as the franchise. Ok, that's too mean. Alien Resurrection and the AVP films truly killed the franchise but you were the first domino!). The cool thing about writing to famous people? They have publicists and PR people that write you back. I think my father still has the lettered response from Sir Steven's company, Amblin Entetainment, with full Amblin logo (Eliot and E.T. flying past the moon on a bike) tucked away in a photo album, as well as the letter with the infamous 20th Century Fox letterhead centered perfectly at the top of the utterly vague but rewarding one page response from the studio. When acting and writing to studios didn't pan out, I turned to music. In high school and college, I jammed on my guitar in rock bands, forever dreaming of being signed to Geffen or Virgin Records and performing live every night for thousands of adoring fans. My junior year of college I auditioned for the Real World. I have that (rejection) letter filed away as well. Suffice to say, I was drawn to the life of the rich and famous. These days however, anyone can find their 15 minutes via YouTube or YouPorn, some god awful reality show, or even, gasp, writing a blog. I was wondering if my chase for celebrity was even worth it anymore. Being famous felt cheapened. For all the shit Paris Hilton gets, richly deserved or not, she at least WAS in the fashion industry at some point. She was an actual model. A lot of people say Paris is famous for being a Hilton and for having a sex tape. That's true. But she at least semi earned her stripes by doing SOMETHING. Many people tend to forget that, although she wasn't as very well known as she now is, Paris started off as a legit model who was well respected in the fashion industry. She may have blown up due to her mating rituals with Rick Solomon, but she at least started somewhere that gives her celebrity crowning creedence. Speidi? Absolutely famous for no apparent reason. Kim Kardashian? A walking paparazzi target for no reason. These days anyone can be famous. And what's the point of being famous if you haven't earned it? What's the point if you're famous but not for art? For not something you've worked so hard for? It seems pointless. What if... what if... what if you become a celebrity simply for being you? Not because you're an actor or a musician or an author or a model or a dancer or a professional athlete but because you're fascinating enough to warrant fame?
This Halloween, my roommates and I hosted our 1st, and likely last, Halloween party. Our party was no different than pretty much any other Halloween party out there. We had candy, we had beer, we had fruity vodka cocktails, and we had the standard Halloween party mix blaring on the iTunes (interrupted only a dozen or so times by the likes of Miley Cyrus and Lonely Island). There was Flip Pong, there were keg stands, and there were lots of awesome costumes. In essence, our party was the Halloween party you went to or hosted yourself. Nothing out of the (extra)ordinary. Little did I know that my life would change this Halloween night. A sense of validation and humiliation at once was to come. It was on its way.
If you know me at all, you know I've chased the fame dragon for a long time. As a child, I took acting lessons with hopes of becoming a star. In my preteens I wrote to both Steven Spielberg and 20th Century Fox studios to give the former my thoughts on how to make Gremlins a successful franchise (for example having really cool sequel names like Gremlins 5: The Baddest Batch) and the latter a good idea on how to follow-up Aliens. I can't remember what my suggestion was for that one, but I can assure you it was better than what the studio actually released in the years to follow (seriouslyAlien3, you took all that was great and important about Aliens and you killed it, as well as the franchise. Ok, that's too mean. Alien Resurrection and the AVP films truly killed the franchise but you were the first domino!). The cool thing about writing to famous people? They have publicists and PR people that write you back. I think my father still has the lettered response from Sir Steven's company, Amblin Entetainment, with full Amblin logo (Eliot and E.T. flying past the moon on a bike) tucked away in a photo album, as well as the letter with the infamous 20th Century Fox letterhead centered perfectly at the top of the utterly vague but rewarding one page response from the studio. When acting and writing to studios didn't pan out, I turned to music. In high school and college, I jammed on my guitar in rock bands, forever dreaming of being signed to Geffen or Virgin Records and performing live every night for thousands of adoring fans. My junior year of college I auditioned for the Real World. I have that (rejection) letter filed away as well. Suffice to say, I was drawn to the life of the rich and famous. These days however, anyone can find their 15 minutes via YouTube or YouPorn, some god awful reality show, or even, gasp, writing a blog. I was wondering if my chase for celebrity was even worth it anymore. Being famous felt cheapened. For all the shit Paris Hilton gets, richly deserved or not, she at least WAS in the fashion industry at some point. She was an actual model. A lot of people say Paris is famous for being a Hilton and for having a sex tape. That's true. But she at least semi earned her stripes by doing SOMETHING. Many people tend to forget that, although she wasn't as very well known as she now is, Paris started off as a legit model who was well respected in the fashion industry. She may have blown up due to her mating rituals with Rick Solomon, but she at least started somewhere that gives her celebrity crowning creedence. Speidi? Absolutely famous for no apparent reason. Kim Kardashian? A walking paparazzi target for no reason. These days anyone can be famous. And what's the point of being famous if you haven't earned it? What's the point if you're famous but not for art? For not something you've worked so hard for? It seems pointless. What if... what if... what if you become a celebrity simply for being you? Not because you're an actor or a musician or an author or a model or a dancer or a professional athlete but because you're fascinating enough to warrant fame?
I used to ponder this question. If I were a reality star on the Real World, I'd be famous. But I wouldn't really get the perks of being a true star. I wouldn't get gobs of money. I wouldn't really do much in my "career" except maybe a tacky reunion show or some contrived reality spinoff. But people would still recognize me. Would that be rewarding enough? I still don't know the answer to that question internally. What I DO know however is what it feels like to be a character in other peoples lives. And how do I know this? Because two of my Halloween guests came as Macster for Halloween. Unplanned. Uncoordinated. They simply showed up as me.
So for a week now I've pondered what this means. What does it mean when the people you hang out with dress as you as Halloween. I couldn't help but harken back to a JV football coach who once told me I reminded him of a cartoon character. Is that what I've become? A character in the lives of people I surround myself with? I'm not just Macster, friend. I'm not just Macster, relative. I'm Macster. I'm someone that two people on their own accord will decide to be on Halloween. On one hand, it's totally flattering. How many people get to the point where their circle of friends will dress like them on Halloween? Not many. On the other hand, what's that say about me? Sure, that I'm awesome. That's no new revelation. But the fact that I can BE a Halloween costume? That's a whole other world of personality. That's, dare I say it, celebrityesque?
"Who did you dress up as for Halloween?"
"Oh, I dressed as Britney Spears."
"I dressed as Jon and Kate plus 8."
"I dressed as Macster."
What the eff. Of course, every person has to take their first major step to that next level. Bands get that first music scout checking them out. Actors get that first meaningful role. I got people dressing up as me. It's a new world. So what does it all mean? Am I just ridiculous? Ricockulous enough to warrant being a costume? Am I emulated or mocked? These are the questions I ponder. And what's the next step? How do I use this as a springboard? Do I play up the Macster mannerisms? Do I tone them down because, let's be honest, when you've become a character it's hard to be taken seriously. In the end, I guess it doesn't matter. I'm going to be who I'm going to be. And if those around me decide it's worth characterization, then so be it.
I'm Macster and I approve this message
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