The Zoo

January 17, 2006 § 10 Comments

As your primary source for all the latest in celebrity gossip and earth-shattering Hollywood news, “the state of things” brings you the latest: Forget the Golden Globes, and all the pre-Oscar buzz, I’ve got the scoop…Jason Mraz goes to the San Diego Zoo! That’s right, you heard it here first…Mraz likes the monkeys!

Yes, I was visiting the San Diego Zoo the other day with Karen and my in-laws, just calmly watching the gorillas as they did…well…nothing. That’s when I looked over and noticed the guy in the plaid pants which looked suspiciously like pajama bottoms. I continued to stare, for no apparent reason really, I just do that sometimes. Then, he turned around and my stare quickly became the furious blinking, eye-bulging kind of locked-on-target stare that I’m sure most celebrities receive just as their long-time stalkers have them cornered. I jabbed my elbow into my wife’s armpit (she’s considerably shorter than me) and discreetly whispered, “I think that’s Jason Mraz.” At which, she called back at the top of her lungs, “WHAT?” Of course she couldn’t hear me due to the incessant screaming and clamoring of the unwieldy crowd of riotous toddlers who were trampling one another in an effort to get closer to the glass because someone had innocently mentioned that they may have seen the medium-sized gorilla’s eyes move. Anyway, without a further explanation, I wrangled the camera and strap from around my wife’s neck (I heard some sputtering and gurgling, don’t know what that was) and went off in search of Jason, who had extricated himself from the frenzied gorilla viewing area and was making his way down the Zoo’s monkey trails. (Sidenote: The Zoo considered calling their newly constructed monkey exhibit Monkey Entrails but there was concern that the extraordinary cleverness of the name may be overshadowed by its ominous connotations and settled instead for, Monkey Trails.)

So, I chased Jason and a girl, who I assumed to be his girlfriend rather than his sister due to my observation of their “condition.” They appeared to be attached at the lips. This must be a recent medical development because I imagine it would have been hard to get much of a singing career started had this manifested itself earlier in life.

As I followed behind I warred within. My hero worship prodded me to rush up to him, thrust the camera into his girlfriend’s hands, and demand that a picture be taken with Jason and me. But I was worried, I don’t know what kind of people Jason hangs out with, what if she steals my new camera? Simultaneously, my intense desire to be Jason’s new best friend made me want to stay as calm and respectful as possible and not come across as one of those raving-mad, lunatic fans. See, I’ve always harbored this belief that if most famous people only had the chance to meet me and realize I was alive we would all become best friends. Anyway, my passionate desire to be liked combined with my crippling lack of mettle in such situations left me standing in the middle of a faux Asian forest amid the taunting screeches and leering, laughing faces of hundreds of monkeys with a pretty lame story and a picture of Jason’s back which isn’t even worth posting.

The moral of the story: Don’t be a pansy.


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