rARsh!

You should never meet your heroes

Well, that’s what “they” say, but I fail to see what business it is of theirs anyway. Nosy buggers. Pah.

Anyway, tomorrow Mr Stephen Fry’s going to be in Norwhag, signing copies of the dead-tree version of his recent series about America.

Now I enjoyed the series, although it was far, far too short - visiting all 50 (ahem) states in just 6 episodes was always going to require editing with a chainsaw rather than a scalpel - so I’m hoping that the book will go into a little more detail on those states which were rather glossed over or mentioned only in passing on the television. It should, I’d hope, be a good read.

So, in the light of never meeting heroes advice, should I go and meet him? He does. after all, follow me on Twitter* (although I doubt he waits on tenterhooks for my next exciting tweet).

I’ve read his post on fame and won’t try to impress him with bizarre factoids, of course. Won’t point out that his book’s been reduced to less than half price on Amazon either. That would be tactless and I am known for my tact. I think. Or was it lack of tact? I forget.

Is it worth the risk of disillusionment, then?

Of course it is.

I must tell you about when I met G*ry Lin*ker, though. What a **** he turned out to be.

* I hope he doesn’t read this blog, though. Think I’m fairly safe …