Making a fool of myself

Okay this is so weird. I just posted a note about the note I had written a few days ago about making a fool of myself, and that it had vanished utterly just before I was about to post it. I spent a silly amount of time trying to find it, to no avail (to know a Vail, my Dad says) -- but then, when I posted my understanding that a power that could make anything I write disappear is a power to take very seriously and not muck around with -- and vowed not NOT rewrite the anecdote -- it came back.

Here it is, in original form.

Because I get it, whatever you are. I am good and freaked out. And properly awed and humbled.

But, at the same time: Like life is not freaky enough? I mean, come on. But no -- here it is:

Another fun review for PIGGY BUNNY!

Okay, and now: how I made a fool of myself in front of Liam Neeson.

I was out to dinner with my extended family in one of our favorite sushi spots on the Upper West Side. My son Liam had just been in a show and all the grandparents and an aunt and an uncle had joined us to applaud and enjoy his performance. There was a Knicks game on TV, showing in the bar area, and as we were putting on our jackets and saying good night to one another there we noticed two things:

1. The Knicks were losing.
2. Liam Neeson was watching the game, over in the corner near the door.

He looked as relaxed and happy as any Knicks fan can look while out for beers and sushi with a friend on a nice spring night if the Knicks are losing. I thought how wonderful it is that a world-class movie star can go out to a local sushi place and watch the Knicks game with a buddy without anybody disturbing him -- and how lucky we are to live in such a neighborhood where these things can happen.

Then my brother went over and asked if he was indeed Liam Neeson. Yes. My brother very sweetly, though at some length, detailed his disinclination to bother Liam Neeson or intrude on his privacy etc etc etc but was a big fan and had seen him in (list of movies starring Liam Neeson)... My brother is the sweetest guy in the world. But Liam Neeson rose to the sweetness challenge, thanked my brother, asked if he'd had a nice meal, concluded the conversation kindly. My brother was thrilled. The rest of stayed determinedly quiet -- too cool to show we even noticed that Liam Neeson was right there. No ooglers, we.

So we nonchalantly filed out. My young son, Liam, the star of the Purim Spiel at our synagogue that night and the impetus for our family gathering, was ahead of me, bouncing toward the door -- when I noticed that he had an absurdly long piece of toilet paper stuck to the bottom of his shoe. "Liam," I called after him. I didn't want to embarrass him or myself by shouting you have toilet paper stuck to you shoe! especially as I was passing a movie star, for goodness' sake -- so I just kept calling his name: Liam! Liam! LiamLiamLiamLiam!!!

It was only as I got outside that I realized that the other Liam, not my son but the other one, must have thought I was an utter lunatic, shouting his name over and over and over as I walked past him.

Very cool indeed.

Urgh.

My Liam (who is not named after Liam Neeson but rather after my grandparents, Lily and William) will never let me live this one down for sure. Nor will my brother. Luckily both those guys are just as gentlemanly as Liam Neeson.

Yours in humiliation,
Rachel Vail