It’s the season for celebrity sightings. Not that I’ve seen any, mind you, but folks I know have had some excitement.
In our small town, we’re not exactly overrun with celebs. It’s not Aspen, after all, where you can’t walk two feet without stepping on someone famous. Here, we solemnly observe the arrival of fall by erecting a pumpkin tree encircled with hay bales in the main square. Where Tom Cruise isn’t skiing and Taylor Swift isn’t snapping up the last 3 feet of real estate.
It was out in the big, wide world where people aren’t driving around pumpkins handpainted by local schoolchildren that it happened. There they were, family members. And there he came, moving along the greens.
It was President Bill Clinton and his entourage. Photos showed the smiling former president with my cousin’s wife and daughter, also smiling, as the Secret Service hovered, unsmiling, in the background.
Then recently over breakfast, a couple from church reported a celebrity sighting of their own. They’d gone to Mackinac Island, taking the ferry over to do some sightseeing. Suddenly, right before them appeared Gov. Mitt Romney and members of his family. Whipping out his phone, the quick-thinking fellow reeled off several shots, capturing their Mackinac moment with the man who could become president.
I couldn’t help admiring his composure. That he’d actually captured the governor on camera was, I felt, remarkable. I knew good and well how my pictures would’ve looked, and they wouldn’t have looked like his.
Instead of a smiling, relaxed governor surrounded by his family, my photo album would show several blurry shots of horizon and sky. The next five frames would feature close-ups of my right eye. If I didn’t drop the whole kablooie in the water, of course. And that quick, the moment’s gone, I’ve missed the shot and blown the chance to do what I really wanted to do.
My blasted excitability factor’s what that’s about. After that whole juggling show, there’s nothing “smiling and relaxed” going on in my camp. That’s all over on the Romney side, leaving me on the shores of Lake Huron with my questions unanswered, phone full of useless photos.