Man, when it rains, it pours. First the dirt on Ron Howard, and now, well, you'll see...
Today was Valentine's Day, so of course I went to the Science Museum again. I made the usual rounds -- I shouted at the dinosaurs, I saw "Gentle Ben" the dead bear, I inquired in the gift shop about buying a real human skeleton, etc. It hadn't been a bad trip, but it was really nothing special, until I saw the man himself, John Stamos.
Now, any celebrity sighting at the museum is a sure sign of a red-letter day, but Stamos was something special. I thought it was great seeing Cecil Fielder there a couple years ago, but John Stamos had always been something of an idol to me. I know the last few years have probably been kind of rough for him, what with Rebecca Romaine-Stamos and him splitting up, but to me that's all small-potatos. He will always be Jesse Consapolis to me, the coolest uncle in the world to cute little Michelle, beautiful DJ, and skanky Stephanie Tanner. He was by himself, too, so I followed him around the museum.
It was really great at first -- I pretended that Uncle Jesse was giving me a personal tour of the museum. It was neat just watching him, even if I didn't really understand some of the things he was doing. When we were down in the Weather Gallery, though, the day just went down hill. He was "standing" by the big Tornado Machine, and a museum security guard came up to him, and sort of pulled him away from the display. Naturally, I ran over to help him out.
"Sir," the security guard said, "I'm afraid I have to ask you to leave the museum."
I told the guard that "sir" was entirely inappropriate. "Sir Stamos" would be better. John and the guard just looked at me, but they didn't do anything. I took that as acknowledgement that my input was appreciated.
Anyway, John Stamos just sort of stammered in a very suave way, and asked why he had to leave the museum. The guard said that he's rather not say why out loud, but I insisted that he did, for the honor of John Stamos. I just got looked at again, but the guard said that he had seen Mr. Stamos rubbing up against several of the exhibits in what he had deemed an "inappropriate" manner, and when Mr. Stamos rubbed against the Tornado Machine it was the last straw.
John Stamos said that he never had done that, and I said that it didn't matter if he did, because it is a free country, and the guard said that there were aproximately forty-five minutes of security camera footage of John Stamos rubbing against exhibits. I asked, then, what was so inappropriate about rubbing up against a Tornado Machine, and what was it for if not that. So I started rubbing up against the machine in the same way I had seen John Stamos do.
Have you ever done this? I thought I was being both noble and logical, like that Down's Syndrome alien on Star Trek, but when I started rubbing against that Tornado Machine, it wasn't like that at all. While it wasn't entirely unpleasant, it sure as hell wasn't entirely pleasant either. And it was still warm from John Stamos, which was very upsetting to me. I never thought someone could fall so far so fast from my good graces. But John Stamos did.
"He's all yours," I told the security guard. The guard tried to grab John Stamos again then, but ol' Uncle Jesse pulled away from him and ran to the other side of the Tornado Machine, where he started rubbing again. And then he kind of started crying, and he kept saying, "But it's Valentine Day! Valentine Day! Rebecca! Rebecca! It's Valentine Day!" And then another guard showed up, and they pulled him away. He was still rubbing away at thin air when they got him to the elevator.
I'll bet that's the last time I'll see John Stamos outside of a rerun. If I wasn't so upset by the Tornado Machine experience, I sure would feel bad for the guy. I mean "Rebecca! Rebecca!"? That's pretty rough. I just wonder if he was talking about Rebecca Romaine-Stamos, or Rebecca, his wife from Full House. Because he and TV Rebecca always had such chemistry together.
Well, goodbye John Stamos, until we meet again at the big Beach Boys concert in the the sky (and, Brian Wilson, keep him away from the amplifiers!)
And to the rest of you, Happy Valentine Day!
Today was Valentine's Day, so of course I went to the Science Museum again. I made the usual rounds -- I shouted at the dinosaurs, I saw "Gentle Ben" the dead bear, I inquired in the gift shop about buying a real human skeleton, etc. It hadn't been a bad trip, but it was really nothing special, until I saw the man himself, John Stamos.
Now, any celebrity sighting at the museum is a sure sign of a red-letter day, but Stamos was something special. I thought it was great seeing Cecil Fielder there a couple years ago, but John Stamos had always been something of an idol to me. I know the last few years have probably been kind of rough for him, what with Rebecca Romaine-Stamos and him splitting up, but to me that's all small-potatos. He will always be Jesse Consapolis to me, the coolest uncle in the world to cute little Michelle, beautiful DJ, and skanky Stephanie Tanner. He was by himself, too, so I followed him around the museum.
It was really great at first -- I pretended that Uncle Jesse was giving me a personal tour of the museum. It was neat just watching him, even if I didn't really understand some of the things he was doing. When we were down in the Weather Gallery, though, the day just went down hill. He was "standing" by the big Tornado Machine, and a museum security guard came up to him, and sort of pulled him away from the display. Naturally, I ran over to help him out.
"Sir," the security guard said, "I'm afraid I have to ask you to leave the museum."
I told the guard that "sir" was entirely inappropriate. "Sir Stamos" would be better. John and the guard just looked at me, but they didn't do anything. I took that as acknowledgement that my input was appreciated.
Anyway, John Stamos just sort of stammered in a very suave way, and asked why he had to leave the museum. The guard said that he's rather not say why out loud, but I insisted that he did, for the honor of John Stamos. I just got looked at again, but the guard said that he had seen Mr. Stamos rubbing up against several of the exhibits in what he had deemed an "inappropriate" manner, and when Mr. Stamos rubbed against the Tornado Machine it was the last straw.
John Stamos said that he never had done that, and I said that it didn't matter if he did, because it is a free country, and the guard said that there were aproximately forty-five minutes of security camera footage of John Stamos rubbing against exhibits. I asked, then, what was so inappropriate about rubbing up against a Tornado Machine, and what was it for if not that. So I started rubbing up against the machine in the same way I had seen John Stamos do.
Have you ever done this? I thought I was being both noble and logical, like that Down's Syndrome alien on Star Trek, but when I started rubbing against that Tornado Machine, it wasn't like that at all. While it wasn't entirely unpleasant, it sure as hell wasn't entirely pleasant either. And it was still warm from John Stamos, which was very upsetting to me. I never thought someone could fall so far so fast from my good graces. But John Stamos did.
"He's all yours," I told the security guard. The guard tried to grab John Stamos again then, but ol' Uncle Jesse pulled away from him and ran to the other side of the Tornado Machine, where he started rubbing again. And then he kind of started crying, and he kept saying, "But it's Valentine Day! Valentine Day! Rebecca! Rebecca! It's Valentine Day!" And then another guard showed up, and they pulled him away. He was still rubbing away at thin air when they got him to the elevator.
I'll bet that's the last time I'll see John Stamos outside of a rerun. If I wasn't so upset by the Tornado Machine experience, I sure would feel bad for the guy. I mean "Rebecca! Rebecca!"? That's pretty rough. I just wonder if he was talking about Rebecca Romaine-Stamos, or Rebecca, his wife from Full House. Because he and TV Rebecca always had such chemistry together.
Well, goodbye John Stamos, until we meet again at the big Beach Boys concert in the the sky (and, Brian Wilson, keep him away from the amplifiers!)
And to the rest of you, Happy Valentine Day!
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