Andy fell down and broke his crown

I know this may come as a surprise to some of you, but nobody has ever asked me for my autograph. I can go anywhere and rarely (ok, never) has anyone asked if they could have their picture taken with me. There have been very few occasions where I felt like people (other than my immediate family) really wanted a piece of me. So...I am sensitive to the fact that I can't really appreciate the public demands on the private life of a celebrity. But still, I am sensitive.

So when we saw Andy Roddick, a celebrity tennis player, in Chipotle the day after we had cheered him on to victory at the tennis tournament, I tried to keep a lid on it. I turned to point him out to my kids, but there was apparently no need as they had all suddenly turned into the presiding officers of the Andy Roddick Fan Club. Gabe had been carrying around a tennis ball and a sharpie marker ready to capture autographs from any of the great tennis players we had the privilege to see play. He hadn't really expected to need them in Chipotle while we ate our lunch and now here was a perfect opportunity. Whispering in my ear, he asked if he could run out to the car to get them. At the same time, Christian leaned over and asked if I thought it would be okay to ask Mr. Roddick if he could get a photo with him. He had his phone camera ready. I wanted to say,"no." 'Cause that's how I roll. Don't draw attention to yourself or others. Don't ask of others-especially a celebrity. But...I have missed opportunities with that line of thinking. And I had previously denied my children opportunities with that line of thinking, so I sucked up my insecurities and told him to "go for it." Which he did. Respectfully, he waited until Mr. Roddick had ordered and paid for his food before asking (also telling him that he had seen him play the day before and been so impressed with his performance) and then shoved his phone in my hands to snap the photo. There was no friendly banter. In fact, there was no friendly anything from our celebrity. Just a grunt and an obligatory pose. I tried to comment. To give basic, friendly affirmation, but I got nothing. It was awkward, people. And all the while, I can see Gabe, sitting just to my right, with a tennis ball and a sharpie marker. I tried for my boy's sake to say, "Mr. Roddick, would you be so kind as to take 2 more seconds to autograph a tennis ball for a 13 year old fan?" but I was already sweating and he seemed so miserable that I just couldn't do it.

Brittney's cooties are showing

Our 20 seconds of celebrity gawking had cost us our place in line, so I returned to the back of the line-again. Gabe didn't budge. He continued to sit at the empty table looking forlornly at the unsigned ball in his hands. I felt terrible. Why hadn't I made more of an effort regardless of Mr. Roddick's apparent distate for....us?? I motioned for Gabe to come talk to me. ( I felt bad, but not bad enough to lose my place in line a second time)

"Bud," I said, "I'm so sorry I didn't stop him from leaving before he had signed your tennis ball."

"It's okay, Mom. I saw how he acted."

And it hit me. Gabe wasn't upset because he hadn't gotten an autograph from the Andy Roddick- a great tennis player that he had looked up to and admired and followed for years.

He was upset because he didn't want the autograph.

In one fell swoop, humanity had rushed in and swept a hero off of his pedestal, bringing him to his knees and exposing him as nothing more than a mere mortal.

And so...Gabe is currently in the market for a replacement of that empty spot on his pedestal. I told him to choose carefully as falling off is an occupational hazard. To not chose anyone he didn't want to get hurt.