It looks like I've officially arrived. All of this blogging and podcasting has resulted in blogesphere glitteratti.
While spectating the White Rock Marathon in Dallas I was approached by this gray haired guy who asked, "Are you, Triboomer?"
"Yes, yes, I am. What's your name?"
"Great! I'm Frank Shorter."
**My brain searching for the familiarity of his name.**
"Hi Frank. Good to meet you," I said, still vexed by why his face and name looking and sounding familiar but I can't place either. "Did you run the half-marathon today?"
"Oh no, I just finished the race broadcast and I'm getting ready to give the awards to the winners."
"Oh, so you're the race director?"
He raises his an eyebrow and says, "No, I'm Frank Shorter. Four time National Champion, the only American man to win an Olympic Gold Medal in the marathon. Also, I won the silver in Montreal in '76?"
"Oh, oh... yes. You're THAT Frank Shorter, aren't you?"
**He turned red from embarrassment**
"Yep. And I wanted to say 'hello.' I've heard your podcast and read your blog..." **voice squeaking** "blog" **clearing throat and lowering voice** "I mean, blog..."
... and I just wanted to say, 'hello'."
"Meh," I sighed. **shrugging shoulders in apathy**
"Hey 'Boomer. Can we get a picture made together? It's OK I call you 'Boomer, isn't it?"
**handing his cell phone to my buddy, Kris, making sure he knew how to operate it**
We strike a pose. Click. Done.
"Cool, 'Boomer. I'll email it to you. I know the email address from your podcast."
"Well, Frank... gotta go. Thanks."
"OK, good to meet you too, 'Boomer. Bye"
[Or it went like this..."]
I was standing on the floor of the American Airline Center with my buddy, Kris. We were trying to find our triathlon team coach, Gerald, who had just finished the marathon in under 3:46.
Kris taps me on the shoulder, "Hey, that's Frank Shorter standing over there."
"Right beside you, geesh!"
"You mean, the guy I almost bumped into a sec' ago?"
"Hey Kris, let's get his picture"
We walk to where Frank is standing and talking to some tall runner-type guy."
**Politely wating for Frank to end his conversation with this guy**
"Hi, Frank. I'm Brian. Nice to meet you."
"Ummmm... sure, um ... Ryan... good to meet you too?"
"Thanks for coming to Dallas and announcing the race. I remember watching you win the gold medal in '72 and the silver in the '76 Olympics."
"Meh," he said. **shrugging shoulders in apathy**
"Hey Frank, can I have my picture taken with you? I'll put it on my blog."
"Your blog? Yah, that's what the world needs, another blog."
"Yeah. You read blogs? Do you listen to podcasts? I have one of those too."
"Meh." **shrugging soulders in apathy and a deep sigh**
I hand the cell phone to Kris. We strike a pose. Click. Done.
"Hey Bruce, I need to run. Bye"
"OK, Ryan, take care, 'K?"
"See ya, Frank."
[and that's EXACTLY what happened... sort of]