Neil Patrick Harris Shapes The Universe
I was in the same room as Barney Stinson on Sunday. I'll let you soak that in for a moment. I'm still trying to soak it in myself.
Okay, technically it wasn't Barney; it was Neil Patrick Harris, who plays Barney Stinson on How I Met Your Mother. But still, Neil Patrick Harris was not only in the same zip code as me, he was in the same building, as part of Comedy Sketchfest. He was interviewing Brian Henson, son of Jim Henson. That's right: my Sunday afternoon featured a mix of Muppets and How I Met Your Mother--even if Neil Patrick Harris wasn't suited up, unless jeans and a baggy shirt count.
Let me say it one more time. Neil Patrick Harris. This is one more reason why it is awesome to live in a big city. Nay, not just awesome. It is, dare I say it, legend--wait for it--ary.
The event was a conversation, Neil Patrick Harris asking Brian Henson about his life growing up with Jim Henson and the Muppets. At the end, there was a live puppet demonstration, involving Brian Henson's latest project, Stuffed And Unstrung, in which comedians on stage improvise scenes with puppets, but the puppeteers remain visible, part of the action. Henson demonstrated how one works with a puppet in front of a television camera, discussing the difficulties of having to view a monitor while working a puppet to ensure that you were turning it the right direction, among other potential hazards. As he brought puppets to life in front of a camera, a big screen to his left projected the puppet, and the juxtaposition was startling.
On the one hand, you saw the puppeteer manipulating a puppet on the stage. On the other, this screen showed the puppet as if you were looking through a window into a Sesame Street-like world where the puppet came to life.
It was a sensation as strange as seeing Neil Patrick Harris in person after years of watching him on TV. Ah, America, the land of the celebrity, where they seem to become larger than life, when in reality, on this day, he was a funny guy talking about puppets with another guy, and it just happened to be on a stage in front of a couple hundred spectators.
We could have waited in line to get autographs, but I didn't even consider it. I'm not sure why I didn't, other than that I'm not really an autograph sort of guy. What would an autograph even mean? That for one moment, I was a couple feet away from someone famous, and they wrote their name on a piece of paper? Not a lot of inherent value to that, although my friend Peter got the following brilliant autograph from David Sedaris in Missoula: "To Peter, with a $incere feeling. David Sedaris."
In any case, Where did this weird feeling come from, this disbelief, this surreal feeling of seeing Neil Patrick Harris in person? Do we live in such a mediated world that people on TV or other famous people feel heavier in our perception when we see them in real life? Do they alter the laws of gravity, or act like a black hole, pulling in all light and matter around them?
More importantly, does this count as a celebrity sighting, given that it was a performance and I paid money to see it? It wasn't as random as finding myself standing two feet away from Robin Williams at a Mexican masked wrestling performance.
In the final analysis, I say it counts enough as a celebrity sighting--nay, a celebrity encounter--to make me awesome by association.
Okay, technically it wasn't Barney; it was Neil Patrick Harris, who plays Barney Stinson on How I Met Your Mother. But still, Neil Patrick Harris was not only in the same zip code as me, he was in the same building, as part of Comedy Sketchfest. He was interviewing Brian Henson, son of Jim Henson. That's right: my Sunday afternoon featured a mix of Muppets and How I Met Your Mother--even if Neil Patrick Harris wasn't suited up, unless jeans and a baggy shirt count.
Let me say it one more time. Neil Patrick Harris. This is one more reason why it is awesome to live in a big city. Nay, not just awesome. It is, dare I say it, legend--wait for it--ary.
The event was a conversation, Neil Patrick Harris asking Brian Henson about his life growing up with Jim Henson and the Muppets. At the end, there was a live puppet demonstration, involving Brian Henson's latest project, Stuffed And Unstrung, in which comedians on stage improvise scenes with puppets, but the puppeteers remain visible, part of the action. Henson demonstrated how one works with a puppet in front of a television camera, discussing the difficulties of having to view a monitor while working a puppet to ensure that you were turning it the right direction, among other potential hazards. As he brought puppets to life in front of a camera, a big screen to his left projected the puppet, and the juxtaposition was startling.
On the one hand, you saw the puppeteer manipulating a puppet on the stage. On the other, this screen showed the puppet as if you were looking through a window into a Sesame Street-like world where the puppet came to life.
It was a sensation as strange as seeing Neil Patrick Harris in person after years of watching him on TV. Ah, America, the land of the celebrity, where they seem to become larger than life, when in reality, on this day, he was a funny guy talking about puppets with another guy, and it just happened to be on a stage in front of a couple hundred spectators.
We could have waited in line to get autographs, but I didn't even consider it. I'm not sure why I didn't, other than that I'm not really an autograph sort of guy. What would an autograph even mean? That for one moment, I was a couple feet away from someone famous, and they wrote their name on a piece of paper? Not a lot of inherent value to that, although my friend Peter got the following brilliant autograph from David Sedaris in Missoula: "To Peter, with a $incere feeling. David Sedaris."
In any case, Where did this weird feeling come from, this disbelief, this surreal feeling of seeing Neil Patrick Harris in person? Do we live in such a mediated world that people on TV or other famous people feel heavier in our perception when we see them in real life? Do they alter the laws of gravity, or act like a black hole, pulling in all light and matter around them?
More importantly, does this count as a celebrity sighting, given that it was a performance and I paid money to see it? It wasn't as random as finding myself standing two feet away from Robin Williams at a Mexican masked wrestling performance.
In the final analysis, I say it counts enough as a celebrity sighting--nay, a celebrity encounter--to make me awesome by association.
posted by Devin at 8:18 PM
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