Monday, December 2, 2013

Dr. Paul Weston

I'm pretty sure it was him, sitting there at a little table with his head bent, reading. I walked past him, on my way out of a cafe where Oliver and I had grabbed some lunch. I had leftover meatballs and tomato sauce in a plastic container, he had a book. He looked up and smiled.

If I could or would or did, I'd have fainted.

I watched that show, In Treatment, religiously when it was on a few years ago. I got so involved in it that I'd drive around the city thinking that if only Dr. Paul Weston were my therapist, my life would be perfect. I imagined all sorts of scenarios, both ethical and unethical. Of course, my obsession was not with Gabriel Byrne but with the tortured, intelligent character that he played. I write all of this perfectly aware of my folly and of how ridiculous it sounds. I figure, though, that Ms. Moon writes rhapsodically of Keith Richards and Radish King of Tom Cruise, so humor me. I wonder what those two ladies would do if they nearly bumped into their own true celebreloves and made eye contact?

Ms. Moon?

Radish King?


  1. I'd unzip my jeans then pretend to faint or maybe really faint. On him. Then I'd invited him over and show him the meds I take to keep me from acting the way he sometimes acts. I would also explain my escape from the freakish evangelical Catholic church I attended. Then I'd fuck his brains out after he asked me tell me what I can do to help YOU.

    1. YOU are the best. You have quite honestly expressed my feelings exactly.

  2. Oh dear Lord. Oh, Elizabeth!
    I think I would maybe, possibly, if it had been Keith Richards, said, "Hey."
    That's all. I would like to think I'd burble and coo and tell him how much he meant to me but whenever I've met even the shadow of a celebrity, I've just walked away as if, well, they weren't a celebrity.
    Except once.
    Okay. There's a story. Not telling it here. And he was not that much of a celebrity.
    Oh, and well, there was that time I met Matt Guitar Murphy on the sidewalk in front of a bar in Key West and I told him he was such a great guitar player and he shook my hand and then I went on with my life, but quivering inside.
    So honey. I don't have any idea what I would have done.
    He smiled at you.
    He smiled at you.

  3. All right. I've just read Madame King's response and now I realize what an incredible wimp of a woman and human being I truly am.

  4. So now I clearly have a new netflix series! In Treatment!

  5. I could use some zipper therapy right now.

  6. LOL -- love the comments! I must say I've never watched "In Treatment" so I have no idea what this character is like, but my general response to celebrity is to simply marvel from a distance, as I have the (possibly incorrect) notion that celebrities hate to be acknowledged in public.

  7. Both ethical and unethical. Love love love that. I just love that.

  8. It makes me feel so good to know there are other intelligent, poetic women out there entertaining these sorts of idles about famous, beautiful men. And thanks to Radish King, I now know exactly what to do if I ever run into Jensen Ackles.

  9. I saw the first season of "In Treatment," but not the subsequent seasons. Perhaps I should! I got too wrapped up in their lives and felt it was best I step away. I am prone to do that from time to time (ala "Brothers and Sisters).



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