Huff-ing and puffing

I saw Hank Azaria jogging (sorry I'm stuck w/that term, can't replace it with the more current "running" even if I try) through Beverly Hills yesterday.  And it was just me and him.  No one else around.  Except for my kids in the back of the car and my mother on the phone. 

More later...

 

Ok I'm back.  So I'm on the phone w/my mom and see this guy in a white T-shirt and no one else around.  Because it was Beverly Hills I figured I'd have a good look to see if by chance it was someone interesting.  But first I must make a notation... While George Clooney was still in his scrubs and filling the home screens as the new hot TV actor my heart belonged to the man not ashamed to vacuum while wearing really short Daisy Dukes and channeling a flamboyantly gay man.  His name?  Hank Azaria.

As jealous as I was of his seemingly-perfect relationship with Helen Hunt, it made him more so the ideal man, as he wasn't commitment phobic.  That's, of course, until they actually got married and promptly divorced.  While nursing a broken heart through Helen Hunt (I thought maybe he cheated), I grew distant, almost apathetic from all things Hank Azaria, in case he was... a dog-pig (like Clooney in my dream w/the strippers).

Back to the man in the white t-shirt.  It was him, Hank Azaria.  And as desperate as that last breath before going under water, or the last attempt to catch something before it crashes to the ground, my brain reasoned as best as it could:  I rolled my window down, slowed down the car and when he looked at me I mouthed "I love you!".  Everything else is a fog.  I faintly remember him asking me "What?" and me repeating it.  Then I think there was a peace sign or something, yet I was so mortified as within a nano-second I heard the big CRASH of the item I failed to catch in my attempt... my shame.

I had no dignity, no shame, and apparently no brain.  I mouthed those words because I fortunately had a small amount of sense that made me aware of my kids in the back and the confusion it may cause them to see their mother randomly shouting "I love you!" to strange men on the street.  And I was also lucid enough not to interrupt my mother with this loud declaration of love as I was driving down the street, she's already living with one person with dementia.

Ah, to live among the stars...  It's so incredibly difficult to live here and not get somewhat caught up in it.  I usually stay cool as I don't find many people as impressive, but... Hank Azaria? 

It just doesn't get better than that.

G