Scene from an Airport

Question: Does he go by something other than “Michael Stipe,” or even “Michael?”
Me, when I meet an American Michael who doesn’t go by “Mike,” I generally think, “here we have ourselves a twat.”
And what should you have said to him, instead of gargling about Radiohead? How about: “Hey, do you still prefer cocks, or was that just a pose?”

As long as I’ve been reading this blog (many months), this is the first opportunity to reply to a post that I’m simply not able to pass up.

What I want to share is that my brother, who works for MTV, got heinously ripped one fine night in New York–a night that he had been flown out to be part of because it was the occasion of the MTV Music Awards. Dangerously close to the point of no return, he commandeers a cab back to the Royalton–bunk of choice for MTV’s celeb guests and out-of-town execs alike–to reach the lobby only to find his way to the elevators blocked by a rangy-looking crew with strangely familiar faces. He finds his way to his room and the all-important toilet, makes his deposit, and spends the morning after regretting he had not tossed his cookies back in the lobby, because of course it was R.E.M., and “You know they would have written a song about it!”

I’d say it was more a case of an otherwise unremarkable wait in a queue suddenly turning into a newsworthy brush with celebrity, complete with tabloid style reductive characterisation.

The point of the post+comments seems to mainly be “oh look, Stipe’s a dope”. There must be a better target.

A friend of Stipe’s told CT – “of course he was moving slowly and wearing an Irish cap, he always does that on Tuesdays”.

Maybe I’m just grumpy today.

Who’s Michael Stipe? A musician, I presume?

So maybe Stipe is an academic nutcase who happens to be in another line of work, along with another jet-setting wearer of flatcaps. Parallels and constrasts invited.
Maybe, in the rarefied world of pop music superstardom, the autonomy and creative whims of the artist produce a certain indifference toward what might be regarded – in other lines of work – as necessary social graces. The nutty professor and the nutty popstar are both objects of affection – where the latter is fully financially supported by the music-buying public.
Maybe certain academics should take a tip from the entertainment industry and start wearing flatcaps themselves. Or cardigans and tweed jackets ‘with genuine leather elbow patches for a country squire sophistication’.

who is Anthony Kiedis?

I know enough about who Stipe is to be willing to dislike him on general principles, but not enough to flesh my dislike out with much significant detail.

Wait, I’m sorry. You weren’t there- it was your brother who saw him. This isn’t even an “I saw a celebrity” story. It’s a “my little brother saw a celebrity” story.

So I’m sitting in New York bar with my 65 year old father. Slash comes in and sits beside Dad. I mutter sotto voce to Dad “Cool, Slash is sitting beisde you”. Dad (who is slightly deaf) responds loudly “Who the hell is Slash?”. For those of you who are unaware of who Stipe or indeed Anthony Kiedis are…

John M, I commiserate. Had the same experience with a friend when we were dining at a small almost deserted Japanese restaurant in Covent Garden, and I
spotted Sir Peter Hall at another table…

ummm, I should also mention that he says he’s only had dub reggae on his ipod for 6 month. Implications for the album are unknow :)

original post: http://www.radiohead.com/deadairspace/

I lived in Athens for most of the 90s, and, as far as I could see, Stipe was a model celebrity – ie he never acted like a star. A slight eccentric, sure, but I used to see him around town a lot, worked in a restaurant where he ate all the time, drank in the some of the same bars… and I never once saw the guy demand star treatment. And it would have been very easy for him to. At worst, he was a vegetarian who dressed a little funny and had a strange way of speaking. But surely the rich are allowed that.

(And no, I’m not friends with the guy – not even acquaintances.)

Peter Buck, on the other hand, is a loathesome cur. And I once triple bulled Mike Mills in a game of darts.

“Who’s Michael Stipe?”
“who is Anthony Kiedis?”
“Who the hell is Slash?”

To which I might add, “Who is Sir Peter Hall?” The operative question, however, seems to be,”What the heck is Google?”

[Incidently, Sir Peter Hall the urban planner, or Sir Peter Hall the director? Perhaps surprisingly, the urban planner seems to have a higher Google ranking . . .]

A slight problem with your solution: If I don’t care enough about Anthony Kiedis to know who he is, I certainly don’t care enough to google to find out (and yet, I care enough to post twice on this board about it…hmmm).

Steve

Okay, just for Steve–Anthony Kiedis is the lead singer for the Red Hot Chili Peppers, and arguably the third most famous person from my home town of Grand Rapids, Michigan (after Gerald R. Ford and Wally Pipp)

ummm, I should also mention that he says he’s only had dub reggae on his ipod for 6 month. Implications for the album are unknow :)

Ah…you’ve made an otherwise useless thread worthwhile. 8^)

Thanks for the tip, soubzriquet; intriguing news indeed.

“Grand rapids” Pella furniture

What does Steve mean?

(By the way)

“here we have ourselves a twat.”

Hey, now. Some of us decided, when we were 14, that we wanted to sound more like Michael Jordan than Mike’s Auto and Body — and then stayed with it. Not that there’s anything bad about running an Auto and Body shop, just that it lacks the panache of being, at one time, the greatest basketball player in the world.

Just because Stipe and REM fit under the same vague heading of “alternative rock bands” as Yorke and Radiohead, why is Stipe supposed to know anything about Radiohead’s plans? Also, I recently took a trip to Canada, and I also took an absurdly long time counting change at check-outs (I’m sure I annoyed many natives, though they were all too polite to say so), even though I’ve been there many times. Paying with an unfamiliar currency is difficult, and has nothing to do with being an idiot (I have several college degrees), or, for that matter, a musician.

Have to agree with Kimmit. What is this tyranny of the nickname anyway? If your parents saddled you with Richard, does that mean you have to go by Dick? Are all Johns, Jack? Which is the non-loser nickname for Robert, Bob or Rob?

I’m always believed that people, out of politeness, should call you what you want to be called, within reason.

My interactions with Van the Man were limited, some years ago, to “Guinness? That’ll be two pound twenty Sir”. Robert Powell was a bitter drinker and Keith Waterhouse dry white wine.

Odd pub really.

What is this tyranny of the nickname anyway? If your parents saddled you with Richard, does that mean you have to go by Dick? Are all Johns, Jack? Which is the non-loser nickname for Robert, Bob or Rob?

FWIW, my own (completely anecdotal) take on this is that gay men tend to prefer the full name to the diminutive. Most of the gay men I know are Andrew, William, Michael, Robert, etc., not Andy, Will/Bill, Mike, or Bob. And David Rakoff backs me up on this:

In New England, everyone calls you “Dave” regardless of however many times you might introduce yourself as David. I’m reminded of those fanatically religious homophobes who stand on the steps of St. Patrick’s Cathedral during Gay Pride, holding signs that say “Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve!” I have always wanted to go up to them and say, “Well, of course not Adam and Steve. Never Adam and Steve. It’s Adam and Steven.”

(The only snag is that I’m gay but I go by the diminutive form of my name, which blows the whole theory out of the water….)

“Finally, the guy finished counting out his money, slowly gathered his food and his silly bag and turned around to leave.

It was Michael Stipe. My brother, fed up with the long dithering over payment, figured that kicking Michael Stipe’s ass would not be difficult at all. So that’s what my brother did, he kicked Michael Stipe’s ass.”

That was a horrible thing for your brother to do. You should tell him that from me too.

What is the proper way to acknowledge celebrities that you don’t care one way or the other about?

Why do you think acknowledging them appropriate?