Buttafuocco, Ginsberg, and ME!

I was living roughly 35 miles to the east of Manhattan --the cultural center of the world. It's about an 45 hour ride to Manhattan from my old house in Long Island in the middle of the night. Normally during a weekday, it would run nearly two hours. In the late 80's/early '90's I thought I was God's gift to women. The sensitive, nerdy type of women. I had a fetish for the libraian types with the big horn-rimmed glasses. I found out, plain and simple, I was a dork!

I had the 34 inch waist and a hair helmet gleeming with gel and mousse. Yes, I even had hair spray-- but that is when I HAD hair! Of course, Mom doted on me, I was living with her at the time. And it was sad, because I wanted to be the so called "cool guy" I had the denim going on. My jacket and pair of 501's was like armour, and I was the "acid washed knight".I remember my mom stopping me on my way to school: "You are not wearing THAT outside! God, your pants are so tight they can see your RELIGION!". Granted I was not Jewish but New York State has a circumcision law so who can tell the difference? I was cool! On weekends I worked at Wendy's in a polyester outfit, so going to school in "normal clothes" was freedom for me. Ahhh, being young in Long Island!

Now since I was in the vincinity of NYC, you would think I seen my share of celebrities. Not really, I had brief brushes of celebrity in my time when I lived in Long Island. I bumped into Dom DeLuise when I was 7, but I was 7 it wasn't like Joe Namath or Tom Seaver or "The Fonz" or anybody like that., so I didn't remember that much. Believe it or not at Wendy's, I've seen more celebrities than anywhere else.

I remember in the fall of 1991, some large guy ordered a Classic Combo with a Diet Coke in the drive thru. All I remember was this fat guy driving a brand new Corvette (fire-engine red). He also had on a jacket with the then current SNL logo on it, and he had this sandy hair waving in the breeze. The kicker was the glasses, mirrored to the point that you were at the funhouse at an amusement park. It was a Wil Wheaton/"Stand By Me" moment: when he was the only one who saw the deer while everyone was sleeping and not tell anyone. And this "SNL guy", Hell of a nice man, had the mildest of manners and said thanks for keeping it "low-pro". I still didn't know what his name was. That night, I came home and watched SNL right at the beginning; that was when it was pretty funny. Must have been a slow night, I'm usually not back from Wendy's by 12:30-1AM and no one wanted to go to the diner that night. As I was watching this skit on SNL there was this fat guy cavorting around, he looked recognizble. I realized it was Chris Farley that ordered a Classic Combo! I didn't tell Mom about it either who was watching SNL with me, she would usually reply "Oh." and continue complaining about my pants being too tight. In fact this is my first time saying this about my brush with Farley. I'm 44-- I'm not out for the attention anymore.

In August of 1992, I remember seeing Joey Buttafuocco coming into Wendy's. The guy strutted in like he was a the Godfather himself! He had a walk that I can do better improv-ing then explain it with words. But he had Mary Jo with him! This was right after the whole Amy Fisher thing. Mary Jo was just released from the hospital and had paralysis on one side of her face. And she was just sitting there eating her Chicken Combo with her kids. Joey had a Big Classic and a baked potato. The biggest no-no one can do at a Wendys was weasing food from the salad bar. You can only order a salad. At the time, we offered salads from the salad bar--All you can eat! But again you needed to buy a specialized container to place the food in. When someone weased food, we tell them to buy the salad first, and if they didn't stop, buy, or comply and acted unruly we'd call the police. Joey Buttafuocco finished his baked potato with bacon and cheese. With bits of bacon and potato skin, he went up to the salad bar, and plopped a heaping serving of chocolate pudding on top of the bacon and potato guts! This would even make Bill Cosby gag! My manager, very good one and worked strictly by the book, decided NOT TO ACT. She decided to put away her "food police" uniform away. It was friggin Buttafuoco! Butafuocco and his family, left the restaurant and people went back to their seats they were in before the Buttafuoccos arrived. Some left the store with food in hands when the Buttafuoccos came in.

But all that aside, my biggest brush with Celebrity was talking with Allen Ginsberg. Okay, here it goes. In April of 1990, I was taking my English Lit 202 class at SUNY Farmingdale to finish my A.A. degree before I went on to my four year. I was in my early 20's and I thought taking this class would get chicks. That and I thought this would be my chance to be the "great writer" and continue onto SUNY Stony Brook, a nearby four year school to major in English. This was part on my goal to be the intellectual badass as I thought I was!

I was doing a report on Dylan Thomas. My 202 Lit class was based on the works of famous British writers. Dylan Thomas reached me more than anyone to me at that time. We finished the "Woodsworth Circle" and the Bronte Sisters, then Yeats (we never touched Wilde)- most (not all) of which was bleary, dull, and even depressing! I can read Ozymandias in a dentist's chair and not even know I was having a root canal! We then went into the mid 20th Century, and Thomas offered some light into the bleak. His poetry was the basis of all the heavy, more modern stuff that was cool at the time: Ginsberg, Kerouac, Williams, et. al. I make it a tradition to read "A Child's Christmas In Wales" around the seasons, because I still feel chills down my back (good ones), and that would get me amped up for Christmas.

And then I saw the poster ; Allen Ginsberg was doing his reading of his poetry collection, "The Big Red Book" known by his readers. It was also on the same week that my Thomas paper was due. And Ginsberg's reading was two days before the paper was due. Then I thought, "hmm-- Ginsberg was around early enough when Thomas was doing his stuff." The wheels were turning in my head. "If I can speak to Ginsberg after his reading during his signing section, maybe I can get some really cool pertinent information on Thomas!" I congratuated myself to the point I can only see "A"'s."Easy F***ing A! F***ING AYYY!" I said to myself, loud enough so only I can hear it. Okay, maybe the "F***ING AYY" part was audible. But I knew I was going to ACE this paper!

So here I was the "Acid Washed Knight" in due battle with the Literary Prince of the Junior College Kingdom. I seen my fair maiden in the crowd I liked. It was a deadhead girl who sat in back of my class who was kinda cute...but she had a BOYFRIEND! But I was gong to impress her and all the chicks with this "A" paper! I'll frame it, No I WILL PUBLISH the f***er!
So I go in the lecture hall and there's Allen! And there was something I didn't know, I did not realize that he was gay! I have never really read his stuff. I always thought "Supermarket In California" was about his crush on Marilyn Monroe, no it was Walt Whitman! Then he want onto his thing with his lovers-- but then the good part, DRUGS! Al liked the spliff as much as he liked Wally! Of course most the crowd ran out, because no one understood. But strangely I did. Goddammit it was about the SIXTIES and the "Beat Generation": political upheaval, civil rights, good music, DRUGS, hippies, and MORE DRUGS! That and I was destined to get my ACE paper all done!

The reading ended, the ones that stayed had a little wine & cheese (ALL FREE!) gathering at the grounds of the President's House. And there he was, selling his books for $60 a pop. Ginsberg wasn't cheap! There was a little "Q and A" section during this soiree. A small crowd gathered at the table, Ginsberg was sitting at the table signing. I went to the crowd as a defensive back joining in to help the front seven push back the fullback from getting a first down. The questions went on, and then the stragglers vanished. I soon realized it WAS MY TURN. I anxiously asked my question, and then I affixed onto his eyes. His eyes, weathered with age and DRUGS looked through hi bi-focals and focused on ME! One thing ran through my mind: "Is he looking at my CROTCH?" Damn, you can see my "religion" with these things on! I shoulda wore some looser pants! But I went on:"Mr. Ginsberg, when you started out in Greenwich Village, did you ever ran into Dylan Thomas and what inluence he had on your poetry?

Ginsberg then smiled at me. Instead of a perverted old man looking at my crotch, it was literature looking at me face to face. A voice of wisdom came from the face with the bespectacled eyes. "Ahhh, THOMAS" he said. "Yeah, I knew him, and God what a magnificent writer! Drunk as Hell, though!". He then went into his story about Dylan Thomas:

"It was 1950, I was doing a reading at this pub by the Square (Washington Square in NYC's Greenwich Villiage). I was leaving when I saw Thomas stumbling in through the door. "Hey Ginsberg" he said, "You got thirty bucks I can borrow?" I then asked what the Hell he needed it for? "There's this broad on 14th street that wants $20 for a throw (sex) and she'll throw in her girlfriend in for another ten!"
Normally I wouldn't do this, but he had some gigs and he was good for the money... Aww Hell, I didn't care, so I gave him forty and told me to leave the Hell alone tonight. So I was still at this pub and two hours later I saw Thomas hanging onto the front door bleeding and his jacket was torn.
I looked at Thomas and said, "Jesus, Dylan: what the Hell happened to you?" Then Thomas said "You shoulda seen it Ginsberg, I met that girl near the Bowery and she had her friend with her. It turned out they were a couple of dykes and they beat me up and took the forty dollars." Then Thomas said: "Shit, I need a drink, you got another five dollars I can borrow?"

The crowd started to laugh, I mimicked laughter. How in the friggin' world am I going to work this in the paper? Later, in the computer lab I winged it the best I can. Somehow I put the whole part in, angry lesbians and all. I then had a hard time putting this in the Index section. This was not from a book, so how I'm going to work it in. At the end I wrote "a personal interview with Allen Ginsberg". I was a little nervous, I thought the dialogue might get me in trouble-- but I knew it was going to work! I got the paper back and I GOT A "B+"! I went to the professor, I thought the angry lesbian thing was a little much. I asked her what she thought about the paper." Oh, Brendan" She replied" it was a great paper- you caught the true essence of Dylan Thomas. There was ONE thing that bothered me though." "What was that?" I said pretending I didn't know. She then said" You didn't index one book properly". I was a little befuddled --"What book was that?" I asked .She then said" "There's this line from this one book you had that was very funny, also I never heard of this book before-- "An Interview With Allen Ginsberg". I felt like I got hit with the dummy truck on that one. I then explained that I spoke to Ginsberg after his reading on campus the other day and I had a hard time putting that in. "Wait a second, you TALKED to Allen Ginsberg about Dylan Thomas?" In her eureka moment, she shouted out: "That is ingenius! I'm sorry I gave you a "B+" you deserve a higher grade." She then took out her red pen and maked a higher grade.... AN "A" MINUS!

My brushes with celebrity were unique to say the least. I have realized through the years that celebrities are very much like everybody else-- their days in the lights only reveal vulnerabilities which makes celebrities fragile. No matter who we are, we are all human. Whoever we bump into and what stories we have with the "rich and the famous" end up interwoven in our lives. In the end, do we worship them? Do we envy them? Or in some of the cases, do we feel sorry for them? But then we ask about ourselves-- is being famous a happy accident or an accident waiting to happen?