One Degree Of Separation From Matt Dillon

I worked with him twice. He was every inch the gentleman, never mentioning our special moments together to the press. He could have chosen to have a special lunch in his trailer, but chose to sit with the other actors & the grips at a big table. He stayed to feed me his lines for the reverse shots, a generous gesture. He is funny, good looking, & gives off a true sexual heat.

 I might have wished to give the readers of my little spot on the Internet, some spicy anecdotes from my experiences of filming Drugstore Cowboy or Singles, but this is my most treasured Matt Dillon story: In the early 1990s, The Husband was working at an awesome antique store in Seattle’s Pike Place Market, repairing furniture & making displays. I had stopped in to visit & the Husband was gathered at the large front desk with the shop’s owner & a collection of assorted acquaintances. As the group made small talk, in strolled a solo Matt Dillon. Heads snapped & there was a low chatter of: “Oh my God, that is Matt Dillon! Really? I love him! Should we say something to him? What is Matt Dillon doing here?”

The Husband remarked: “Yeah, that’s him. Steve knows him, you know.” The hangers-on retort: “Yeah, right… sure he does." Dillon continued down one aisle & as he turned down the next & moved toward our group, when his head came up & we make eye contact.

Dillon smiled a crooked, come-hither, toothy grin, pointed at me & announced: “Yo, Steve!”. Heads whipped from Dillon to me & back to the actor. I attempted to be nonchalant as I crossed the store to spend a few moments chatting with the star. I then left him to shop on his own, then stopped by the front of the store to say good bye. The circle of Seattleites stood open mouthed as I made my exit with Matt Dillon tossing off: “Remember what I told you, Steve!  See ya soon, dude”.

I cannot reveal what he said to me & I have never encountered him again.

The never married Matt Dillon but he still looks yummy as he turns 48 years old today.

In the really terrific- About a Boy (2002), Hugh Grant’s character wears a black leather jacket that he liked to think made him look like Matt Dillon in Drugstore Cowboy when he goes on to meet his love interest. My favorite Matt Dillon film is Wild Things. If you have not seen this gem, I simply insist that you put it on your Netflix queue. It is a wicked little film with lots of twists & turns & full frontal Kevin Bacon in the shower. Be sure & stay with it through the ending credits.

Punchline

Click on the image & it will get bigger

Receiving this residual check from Singles for 30 cents, which cost The Screen Actors Guild 44 cents to send, reminds me of the very old burlesque joke about the man with the circus whose job it was to clean up the putrid piles of prolific pachyderm poop. A passerby, who saw him hip-deep in elephant shit, asked: “My good man, how can you put up with such demeaning conditions? Haven’t you ever thought about another line of work?” To which the circus worker replied: “What... & give up show business?”

Reflections & Recollections On Gay Pride Day

“You know you're getting old when you stoop to tie your shoelaces & wonder what else you could do while you're down there”.

George Burns

I understand it is horrifying to look at, but this is a photo of the painful Shingles on my back side.

 

 

Today is Portland’s Gay Pride Day. I am showing how proud I am of being lucky enough to have been born homosexual by attending a film showing of the recent concert version Stephen Sondheim’s Company with my boo- Neil Patrick Harris & Miss Patti LuPone, & then off to a party/reception hosted by power lesbians. Gay, huh?

 

 

Today is also day 8 of Shingles, & again, I don’t mean Singles, the very good1992  film by writer/director Cameron Crowe that captures the essence of Seattle at the apex of Grunge, & in which I appear with my reliable brilliance… I am talking about the Varicella-Zoster virus, commonly named- Shingles, which has brought down our hero.

Another photograph of my special case of Shingles

The virus that causes Shingles occurs when the virus that gives you chickenpox starts up again in your body. After chickenpox, the virus is dormant in your nerve roots. In some people, it stays dormant forever. In the case of the Post Apocalyptic Bohemian, the virus woke up because of stress & an aging immune system. It is not clear why this happens, except that I am the very definition of stressed & old.

 

 

I missed 2 days of work & I was in pitiable pain & that could only be kept at bay with help from my friends the Vs- Vicodin & vodka. The Husband even let me off the hook from my chores. One would think that unabashed drug taking & Husband approved laziness would make for a fun week, but it was not to be. The pain has been unlike anything that I have experienced in my considerable time on this planet.

 

 

I did however have time for contemplation about becoming an old person. I actually opened the ubiquitous envelope from AARP yesterday. I considered the very real possibility that no one will ever find me attractive & I will never have sex again. Just like an automobile, even careful maintenance cannot halt the breakdown of my parts, & Saturday nights are for going to bed early instead of going out dancing. The saddest moment was realizing that I have never been smarter, but my body is giving up.

Day 8 of Shingles, they are starting to go away, but they have somehow become more sinister

Having some time to consider the inevitable, I also noted:

I sometimes attempt to straighten out the wrinkles in my socks & realize I am not wearing any.

 

I get the munchies & I hear snap, crackle & pop, but I’m not eating cereal.

 

My back goes out but I stay home.

 

When I look in the mirror I see my father’s driver's license photo.

 

It takes 3 tries for me to get up from the daybed.

 

My idea of a night out is sitting in the Boy’s Fort in the evening.

 

Happy hour is now a term for a nap.

 

I say things to my peeps that my parents said to me, & that I always hated it.

 

When I step off a curb, I look down one more time to make sure the street is still there.

 

I used to go to the gym daily, & now weight lifting is standing up.

 

It takes me longer to rest than it did to get tired.

 

My contacts on my cell phone are mostly names that start with Dr.

 

My pharmacist knows me by name.

 

Getting "lucky" means I know where to find my wallet & keys.

 

It takes me twice as long  to look half as good.

 

Almost everything hurts, & what doesn't hurt doesn't work.

 

I spend time look for my glasses when I am wearing them.

 

I give up all my bad habits & I still don't feel good.

 

The Husband thinks I have more patience these days, but I actually just don't care anymore.

 

 

In my Vicodin haze I wrote the following in my gratitude journal, just as Oprah taught me: “There’s no empty space. The air is fluid, making room for me to get older, we all inhabit a nook that is exactly our size & shape. The air is nice enough to move with me when I move move.  All of us are connected, molecule to molecule. I’m held together by everything that’s not me.”

 

My favorite music at this moment in time is from the remarkable new album Ukulele Songs by Eddie Vedder, a real right on gentleman, who I had lunch with during the filming of Singles. I am reminded that I am so old by the fact that Eddie Vedder is now almost 50 & my kids at work don't know who Pearl Jam are but are well versed in  the fine points of Rihanna & Bruno Mars.

the number one song 25 years ago today-April 10

1984 was my favorite year of my 55 years in this lifetime. There will be more about my favorite year in a future post, but...
25 years ago today (April 10 1984) the number one song was:
Footloose by Kenny Loggins
& damn, if I didn't dig it at the time!
Oh well, I have several guilty pleasures in my music collection.



Favorite Kevin Bacon film: Wild Things (check it out).
Kevin is looking pretty damn fine at 50 years old!
Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon? Try one degree:
I am in the film SINGLES with Krya Sedgwick, wife of Kevin Bacon.