Rubbing Elbows with the Semi-Famous

The conference I attended in Palm Springs (the trials and tribulations experienced during my attempt to get home are detailed in previous posts) was kicked off with an Amazing Race-themed contest in which the conference attendees were teamed up according to the color of the name tag lanyards we selected at the time we registered as attendees. We went through a series of worldly stages, themed for various countries, in which we had to complete challenges for points; and, at the end, those points were tallied to determine the winners.

Anyway, awaiting us at the end of the challenge was the Amazing Race's host, Phil Keoughan. And, of course, we got to have team pictures taken with the man, in all our sweaty, sunbaked glory. Here's my team's photo:

Again, below, I've kind of explained the origin of that stupid hat I'm wearing - and you can see I was not the only subjected to that humiliation.

My favorite part of the experience, though, was that, later that night, we had this lovely dinner party at which Phil was our keynote speaker. He's been the star/host of a bunch of adventure-esque reality TV shows around the world, particularly in his New Zealand homeland. His speech contained a bunch of pictures and video clips from those shows, and a few from the Amazing Race. He told us about a show he filmed that centered on a wedding being held at a nudist colony, in California (I think...maybe it was NZ, I don't remember much due to the sun and the alcohol having fried my brain a bit by that point in the evening), and mentioned that he'd been asked by a colony member to make a plaster mold of his rear-end. He eventually agreed to it, and was given a casting of his own to take home.

When he arrived home, his wife had planned a dinner party to celebrate his return, so he suggested they use the plaster cast of his butt as a serving dish/bowl at the party. Amazingly, his wife agreed, and he noted that they served a salad in it. As I listen to this, I'm sitting like 10 feet from where he's standing, delivering the speech, and I lean over to a tablemate and say - apparently, rather loudly, because, again, the sun and scotch had fuzzed my ability to recognize my voice's volume - "Man, that's what you call a TOSSED SALAD." Sort of in my defense, though, I was a victim of the group's collective laughter dying down as I was trying to make the joke...

Anyway, Phil hears this, and says, "Yes, sir, that's right, that's your line. It gave a whole new meaning to the term "tossed salad." And, the group busted out laughing again.

I had to redeem myself later in the evening, after we'd adjourned the formal activities, and walked over to Phil to congratulate him on the excellent presentation (it was VERY VERY good). In doing so, I commented about his wife, who was also in the audience and sitting at a nearby table. I said, "You know, I'm not sure what I enjoyed more, the content of your speech, or seeing your wife so enrapt with what you were saying. She was really into it, and I could tell, still quite taken by you. Congratulations." He thanked me, we shook hands, and I walked off.

I was told, the next evening, by one of the organizer's employees, that Phil had mentioned my comment to her, and how touching it was. So, it sounds like I'd redeemed myself a bit, anyway. I'm sure the embarrassment of being photoed with him in that damn hat, though, will never subside.

(K)