Even if they're not dbags in the first place, being a celebrity gives you more opportunities to act out than having a normal job, meaning that even a nice guy might growl at someone at the adjacent urinal if they asked for an autograph. Just like the majority of celebrities, the majority of fans must be terrible, too. Even my micro-inkling of Internet fake-fame has shown me countless "fans" who thought they could endear themselves by being combative assholes. I had one guy criticize my family and not understand why he got de-friended on Facebook. He's probably reading this now and telling his foreman at the jackass factory, "Hey, that a*****e he's talking about is me!!! I'm that a*****e."

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Still not clear if the "jackass factory" employs jackasses or actually manufactures them as well.

In summary, people are terrible. Some of those terrible people become famous and act out as terrible celebrities. Some terrible people become terrible fans and act terribly, making otherwise nice celebrities act out. Ultimately, the deck is stacked against a pleasant celebrity interaction.

So I met a humble, well-mannered, gracious actor who even posed with me and my action figure, but I had questions: Was I better off having met him, was it better to pretend Steve Austin was a real person and not an actor, and ...

... why did I look so fat and ugly standing next to him?

I'm still not sure. I know the curtain was pulled back for a minute, and even though the actor behind the hero was a great guy, it's fun to pretend superheroes are real sometimes.

Also, it's in my contract: For every ugly pic of me, I'm allowed to insert a decent one and pimp my book.

However, if you watch this interview, the take-away message is that Randy Newman is a sarcastic Jew that everyone hates. Why? Well, because the interviewer seems pretty much to be a fairly unlikeable Hebrew himself. He sees himself as a misunderstood, sardonic minority, and therefore he needs to see Newman as a similar acquired taste, bordering on failure.

In his attempt to explain to viewers how great Randy is, he completely sells Newman's success short. But the best example of this comes at 9:00 in the video. See, he's no dope, the interviewer, and he's done his research. After consulting maps, he notices that a lyric in Newman's semi-autobiographical song "New Orleans Wins the War" makes no sense: "We used to live on Willow in the Garden District." Well, apparently, Willow isn't in the Garden District. Accordingly, the interviewer has a theory that perhaps this song is a comment on the unreliability and sentimentality of nostalgia. I admire the interviewer's research and appreciate the seeming validity of his theory, except he's wrong. Know how I know? Randy Newman tells him he's wrong.

As you can see, Newman explains that the Garden District was a desirable location, so lower middle class folk would stretch the truth to seem like upper middle class folk by expanding what streets were considered part of the Garden District. And having been given this information, the interviewer spits out his theory again. The truth delivered straight from the artist he worships didn't gibe with his personal notions of that artist's work.

I'm pretty sure that, even now, this interviewer doesn't understand what he's done or who he's met, but imagine if you were just a touch more self-aware; it might be a bummer to learn that all the theories and beliefs composing your hero worship were false.

Let me explain. I'm a huge Jon Stewart fan. In my deluded mind, Jon Stewart and I are supposed to be like the best friends ever -- and not just because we could double our wardrobes, given that we're the same height, weight, and build. We'd crack each other up and finish each other's jokes and he'd introduce me to Stephen Colbert as his "brother from another mother," even though I know he'd never ever actually use that phrase. (Trust me, I know. I like get him!)

Anyway, I'm not actually delusional, so I don't truly believe any of that, but let's say I do meet Jon and we totally hit it off. Guess what? After the elevator we're trapped in starts to move again, he says "See ya," and that's it. He's gone and I'm left to wonder, but, but, but aren't I cool enough? And let's say you don't work in the same field as your idol. Let's just say you're a landscaper who doesn't play golf, but who worships Tiger Woods. Would that landscaper be content to have a totally normal and rewarding encounter with his hero and then know his hero is very content never to speak to him again?

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"Just gonna finish pruning these bushes and then it's over to Tiger's for drinks."

Like I said, some people could deal with it, but most people, especially obsessed people who worship celebrities, are not good about accepting things in moderation. So, really, stop hanging around outside expensive restaurants hoping to meet your heroes. It probably won't end well.

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Reports on the Internet Apocalypse, the third book in Gladstone's Internet Apocalypse Trilogy, is available now!