J. Kelly Nestruck, who (full disclosure) was kind enough to interview me for the
National Post last September,
bemoans how he failed to make friends with all the future famous musicians he bumped into in his college years.
I can dig it. I was way too cool to try to make actual friends with Jodie Foster at Yale, even though we went to the same parties and took the same Psych class. Of course, she was already a certified Famous Person --
her stalker shot the President! -- and one would have felt like a rube to try to chat her up.
I hear her freshman year was
awful.
Amazingly, I ran into her years later at a premiere, and she seemed to remember who I was. I suspect this has more to do with Jodie being
really smart than my being particularly memorable.
Jenny Beals lived off campus, so I don't think I ever even saw her.
Had I known where I was headed, I might also have tried to make friends with Jenny Goldman (her father's some sort of screenwriter) at Dalton. But probably not, because I had a massive crush on her, therefore would not have been able to talk to her. Her yearbook photo was nearly nixed because it was way too sexy. She was in a jumpsuit, showing only her ankles.
Weirdly, she is writing screenplays
in Philadelphia. Has been for years. Long before Philadelphia became the new Hoboken.
According to Kelly, the moral is: befriend those with talent. Even if they have sexy ankles.
Labels: Alex, logrolling