HUMOR
I'm a celebrity
ach year on my birthday 1
pause a moment to reflect and
ask myself what’s really impor
tant in life— specifically, am I
va»
famous yet?
"
f
Well, I’m 38, and I’ve still got
\ .
< I
quite a ways to go.
hliximer beats dying on the vine, hut
Â
Now let me just say that I’m an
it makes me feel like I’m Baby
1U
I-.
Huey— that huge, overgrown cartcxin
evolved enough person to know that
duck waddling around in a diaper.
my unquenchable need for notoriety
is inherently selfish and narcissistic.
In my checkered career (36 jobs
in 22 years— you do the math), I’ve
But, I’m sorry, that still doesn’t stop
made more detours than a New
me from wanting to he a guest on
York cabbie trying to run up the
Ellen DeGeneres. Gill me shallow,
meter. And, along the way, I’ve dis
call me vain, hut, Ellen, just call me!
by M a rc Acito
covered that one of the problems
And I’m not ashamed to admit
with being well-rounded is you’re not pointed
that 1 feel relieved every year when I see that
in any one direction.
so few celebrities were bom the same day I was.
That way, when Entertainment Tonight does
Personally, I think it’s a gay problem. W e’re
genetically wired to be fabulous— it’s in our
celebrity birthdays, I will actually stand a
homo-chromosomes. As a result, we’re the
chance of making the cut.
toughest people to impress. ("You’re creative
Still, all in all, I must say, things are finally
looking up.
•
and talented) You have a tastefully decorated
home and a gym fxxly) A N D ... ?”)
On the celebrity fixxl chain, I’m the rough
Since every gay man thinks he’s a star,
equivalent of a one-celled, scum-sucking organ
when I get compliments, it’s usually something
ism. But, since I’m finally making inroads in
like: “You’re brilliant! A genius! You remind
Hollywood, at least I’m sucking the right scum.
And with my first novel coming out in Sep
me of me!’
tember, I sleep better knowing that, it nothing
peaking of reminding people of others, I
else, I’ll he listed in the Library of Congress as
should report that my increased exposure
“Acito, Marc 1966.”
means I am getting recognized more
The realization that my life hasn’t been a
often. Unfortunately, I’m getting recognized
complete waste couldn’t have come a moment
as Ben Stiller.
tix) sixin. I’m grateful that Dame Fortune seems
A t first I was relieved— 60 pounds ago peo
to finally he smiling on me, hut I’m embar
ple told me I reminded them of Nathan Line.
rassed it tixik so damn long.
With all due respect to the pudgy and talented
At this point, not only do the students in my
star, it mortified me to think that people saw
college alumni magazine lixik young to me, hut
me this way. Plus, you can well imagine that
so do the professors. I suppose that being a late
You see, in L.A. (unlike back home in Port
land), someone who Lxiks like Ben Stiller real
ly could be Ben Stiller. And that’s when the
fun began.
As I was parking the car for a meeting at
Fox, a cheerful Tyne Daly yoo-htxxxi and waved
to me as she sped off the lot in a golf cart that
she appeared to be stealing. (How— and why—
she managed to navigate busy Pico Boulevard in
a golf cart during msh hour remains a mystery.)
Likewise, on the way into Spago, L in
“Tank Girl” Petty flashed me a shy, but
eager, smile— the kind that says: “Hi!
Your career is way better than mine.”
However, my favorite moment
came as 1 walked out of Numbers in
West Holly woe xJ and heard someone
say, “Look, there’s Ben Stiller coming
out of a gay bar!”
O f course, I could have corrected their mis
apprehension. But what’s the fun in that)
Instead, I hid my face and acted like I didn’t
want to be recognized. I’m hoping next time
there’ll be paparazzi. (N ote to self: Call the
Enquirer.)
But still (or perhaps I should say “stiller”)
I’m holding out hope for the day when I’m rec
ognized for my own accomplishments (dubious
as they may be) and for being my own charm
ing self.
W hat’s more, I know I will have truly arrived
when someone goes up to Ben Stiller and tells
him that he lixiks just like Marc Acito.
And that, my friends, is The Gospel
According to Marc. J H
Get me a career!
The Gospel
According
to M arc
anyone who doesn't want celebrities bogarting
his birthday probably dcx;sn’t like being
reminded that his appearance is unorigin.il.
But all that changed when I went to L.A.
M a r c A c it o ’ s first newel, How I Paid for
College, will be [mblished in September. Write him
at m arc@ m arcacito.com .
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