Meeting Mr. Jimmy

Meeting celebrities is always an exercise in goofiness for me. I feel the insane need to try to be "memorable." A celeb on a book, movie or concert tour meets thousands of people. Is it possible to say or do something to get them to remember you, without making a total stalker fool out of yourself? I don't think so.

Today I met a man I've admired most of my life, former president Jimmy Carter. I remember writing a book report about him in grade school. I wondered what it would be like to be his daughter, Amy, living in the White House. I remember my grandparents calling him a "good man" and I've watched as he proved them right by helping to build houses for Habitat for Humanity (http://www.habitat.org/). I've donated money to the Carter Center (http://www.cartercenter.org/) because I believe the organization really is dedicated to "advancing human rights and alleviating human suffering." I probably know a little too much about Mr. Jimmy (that's what one of his Secret Service guys told me that people call him in Georgia). That's probably why I made a little bit... no a lot of... a fool of myself today. The good part is, it didn't appear that I'd made an impression on him at all. I was totally forgettable. The people who probably won't forget my Mr. Jimmy antics are the people who work at the television station (http://www.wbtv.com/) in the building where I work.

My first problem was I didn't find out until after I got to work that Mr. Jimmy would be in the building. I was wearing a poncho, fuggs (fake Uggs) and jeans that don't do my booty any favors. I barged into the makeup room and asked Maureen O'Boyle (http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0639358/bio) how I could meet Jimmy Carter. She told me to go into the newsroom, bond with producer Jason over our mutual distrust of clowns (several clowns were hanging out at the WBTV blood drive) and ask to be given temporary WBTV employee status so that I could meet the former President. There's something about disturbing a stranger, who is trying to work, with details about why you call Jimmy Carter your "real dad" that makes you just feel.... stupid. Never-the-less, producer Jason gave me crucial details about Mr. Jimmy's arrival.

You would think that over the next three hours I might have found a good picture of Mr. Jimmy and swapped my poncho for one of the shirts in my car that I'd just picked up from the cleaners. Heck, I had time to send somebody to the book store to buy Mr. Jimmy's latest book(http://www.amazon.com/Can-Have-Peace-Holy-Land/dp/1439140634). I did none of that. The goofy girl who lives inside me, printed out a grainy picture of him in his naval academy uniform, grabbed a red ballpoint pen and presented them to him on top of my Care Bears folder. I thanked him for the lovely Carter Center Christmas card that he and his wife send me each year and leaned in for a picture while he mumbled something about me already taking a picture of him. That's when I realized just how un-memorable I am. Jada, who works for WBTV who is also Black and about my size had gotten to him first. No, she wasn't wearing a poncho. I guess Mr. Jimmy just thought that a tall lighter-skinned Black woman with straight hair looked exactly like me, a shorter darker-skinned Black woman with curly hair. Give him a break, he's no spring chicken!

Why do I try to make a lasting impression on famous people when I know I'll probably either be immediately forgotten or come across as stalkerish? Meeting Mr. Jimmy has helped me to come to grips with the fact that I'm a goofball at heart. My awkward ways don't just surface when I meet famous people. That's how I am all the time! So, now that I can cross Mr. Jimmy off of my "people I'd like to meet list" I'm ready for awkward moments with Hillary Clinton, Oprah, Matt Damon and Desmond Tutu.