On April 28, I had a conversation with Christopher Daniel Barnes. He is the voice of Prince Eric on The Little Mermaid and my Teen Beat crush from back in the day. It all started in November when Twitter changed their “favorite” button to a “like” button. I tweeted that this was a good move on their part as favorite was a little too committal, e.g., when sisters look through Teen Beat, “We can both *like* Kirk Cameron, but we can’t both favorite him. That’s how I found Christopher Daniel Barnes.” Six months later, I got a notification that “Christopher D. Barnes liked your tweet.” I messaged the owner of this mysterious twitter feed to tell them that kinda made my day, and the owner of that twitter feed turned out to be the actual Christopher Daniel Barnes, and we had a conversation after which he posted a video to his feed so I would know he was legit. It was a super awesome day.
Though many of my friends could appreciate the cool factor in that exchange, I usually have starry-eyed conversations about celebrities with alarmingly earthbound types who don’t live the least bit in awe of celebrities and are rather above it, in fact, and proud of that. I don’t blame them. They should be proud that they don’t see humanity on some sort of hierarchy of awesomeness. We are all the same, pants on in the morning, teeth-brushing at night, blah, blah, blah. It’s true. And after a conversation with these more normal grown-up types, I sometimes second-guess my awe. And then I remember: Being starstruck is not a guilty pleasure for me. It is a mission statement.
“To embrace the possibility in every human connection.” That’s the statement. I am proud to be easily impressed. I look for it everywhere. I go to work every day hoping to be amazed by someone. I read my blog comments with a smile on my face, in awe that each of those specific people took the time to respond to me. People I know personally have become things I admire, and they inspire me no less than people I “know” only because they are famous for what they do.
I do love Hollywood. I live fascinated by its people, because they are in the business of my dreams. Being obsessed with Hollywood is my schtick. Being starstruck by you is my mission. I want to be in awe, and very often I am. I am the infant, and you are waving keys in my face. It’s that easy. At least, I am looking for it that hard.
It was pretty much the coolest thing in the world when Christopher Daniel Barnes spoke to me on Twitter. I was happily starstruck by that. But when a friend recently complimented the sweetness and manners of my boys, I was more moved by her kindness than by my conversation with Prince Eric, and in that moment I felt starstruck by the beautiful humans in my own home.
No, dear logical grownup, you can’t shame this one out of me. And I will not grow out of it. I shall remain starstuck ’til I die.