I Touched Chris Isaak - Denim on Denim

 

If there is one thing that Celebrity Touching™ teaches you is hope.  No matter how dire the situation seems, you can never give up hope (unless you are Meg Ryan looking for her career – in that instance, all hope is lost).   Never give up hope that you will be able to touch a spotted celebrity.  No obstacle is insurmountable.  No barrier is too great.  No Wendy’s Frosty is too thick to drink with a straw.  You must never give up.  Which is exactly how I secured the touch of hunky rock musician Chris Isaak.

On this occasion, I was again with my beautiful, faithful travel companion Elizabeth at the San Francisco airport.  Elizabeth was alert, as always, while I was too busy fuming at people who refused to walk on the Moving Walkway (don’t you people realize how much quicker you can get to the Cinnabon if you actually walked?).  Elizabeth nudged me to say “Prime celebrity touch at three o’clock.”  I quickly looked at two o’clock, because Elizabeth is always late.  What I saw was the back of a man wearing (gasp!) denim on denim.  Jean jacket on top and faded mom jeans on the bottom, rounded out with white senior aerobics sneakers.  This was the “prime celebrity touch?” 

Closer inspection revealed it to be Chris Isaak, smoking hot ’90s crooner and former boyfriend of comedian Margaret Cho (I KNOW!).  The problem was he was about ten people ahead of us in the First Class line, boarding the plane.  This was a major issue because for some horrible act of God, Elizabeth and I were in Coach (why have your forsaken me so, dear Lord? Oh, wait, I know why… never mind.)  So, based on the plane’s configuration, Chris would turn left when he got aboard to go to First Class.  We would turn right to go to Coach.  To rub Kosher sea salt into the wound, Chris would also exit the plane way before us and be long gone before a touch could be secured.  I was crest fallen… ok, not really, because at that time I didn’t have any hair to crest, but I was not happy.  Oh what a Wicked Game Chris Isaak was playing on me.

I sat there in my Coach seat (at least it was United Economy Plus) weeping over the missed Celebrity Touch™ opportunity.  Elizabeth tried to console me with ridiculously staged photos of Tori Spelling and her family in OK! Magazine, but even that didn’t lift my spirits.  Then, something miraculous happened:  I became acutely aware that around us were musicians.  It was Chris Isaak’s band.  Celebrity Touch™ saved!  How, you might ask?  Because as a band, they carry instruments, which means they need to go to baggage claim, and at JFK, our destination, you have to walk through baggage claim to exit the airport.  So, unless Chris Isaak was an ass and would leave without waiting for his band, I would encounter him again at JFK baggage claim.  I gave myself a virtual high five, and dried my digital tears (Remember: real tears streak your makeup, so those in the know always cry digital tears).

Sure enough, as we walked through baggage claim, there was Chris Isaak, completely unguarded.  I strolled behind him, gave him a little tap in the buttocks region and continued on my merry way.  Hope (and no, I don’t mean the girl from Days of Our Lives) had kept the Celebrity Touch™ alive.