Celebrity crush

I’ll be the first to admit, my celebrity crushes have been a little unorthodox. Sure, I had a fairly normal tween fascination with Remington Steele, Michael P. Keaton, and pretty much every guy in St. Elmo’s Fire; but as soon as I upgraded my library card and discovered MTV’s 120 Minutes (nothing beats 80s punk/alternative music in my heart) I fell off the Teen Beat bandwagon for fellas with a little more character. Suddenly, I was swooning over the protagonist in The Stand, the lead singer of Fugazi, Ducky in Pretty in Pink. All right, everyone fell for Ducky, but you know what I mean.

As an adult I’ve widened my circle of infatuation to the likes of Woody Allen, Mo Rocca, Ira Glass, David Sedaris – guys who are so good with words that I just want to pick their brains and find the loci of their wit and wisdom. I can get my geek chic fix quite easily by popping in Annie Hall, turning on NPR, re-reading a short story. I’ve even seen Glass in person (twice!) and had to restrain myself from rushing the stage and snatching those glasses right off his adorable little face.

Somehow my affections have expanded to include a few celebrity chefs. There’s just something about watching them exploring the alchemy of food, manipulating flavors and textures and acidity. Bittman, Bayless, Trotter, and just about anyone who’s french – as long as they aren’t some overindulgent fatty like Mario Batalli, they have my attention. At some point Bobby Flay made it onto my radar, and to my chagrin, he stayed there. Nothing really sets him apart from the rest; in fact his schtick can be quite grating. But after I read an article about him cookin’ it up in the Big Easy, I couldn’t stop thinking about his johnny cakes.

Anywho, the point I’m slowly ambling towards is that Mr. Flay will be at the NC State Fair in a few days, and I’m trying to talk myself out of attending his performance. Maybe it’s my newfound interest in southern foods, but I’ve had a case of the bobbys ever since I moved to this little corner of the world. If I almost traveled all the way to France a few years ago with the intent of a Sedaris sighting high on my itinerary, who knows what I’d do in such close proximity to Flay? Now that I think about it, my infatuation would probably be stopped dead in its tracks, since he’s a carnivore with a big fat capital C. Skimming over a recipe or zoning out during one of his programs is easy to do, but having it right in front of me is another matter entirely. I guess I just found my winning argument. That’s all right, though – I’ve got my eye on Sedaris’ public appearances schedule, so I will get my celebrity crush fix sooner or later.