Tuesday, August 3, 2010

just after redford in my esteem


One thing I may never be able to forgive the world for is me not being married to Paul Rudd. For a girl of the 90s, and especially, this girl of the 90s, Paul Rudd is perfect in every way-- a soul of pure dorkiness, covered by good (but not intimidating) good looks. He practically invented the category of "the dreamy people" for me. 

I always felt a particular love for him (more specific, more long term, less need to boldly announce itself than my other celebrity crushes). His birthday is one day after mine. He's kind of short. As a teenager, my imagination would constantly go back to that one moment in Clueless (And not just because I wanted Alicia Silverstone's hair) at the end, where he kisses her at the wedding.  Of course, "Tenderness" is playing in the background. But the generalities of that moment aren't why I would go back to it. It was how he sort of grabbed just one of her curls pulled it so sweetly. That hair touching...That was the moment I fell in love with Paul Rudd.



He's the only one of that set of funny actors who's humor is both rooted in being a bit pathetic and yet never manages to make him pathetic. I've never once rolled my eyes at his kind of male juvenile humor. 

And he's probably the only celebrity I've ever met where I actually feel like the experience enriched my life. Not just because it fulfilled meeting the massive crush of my childhood, but because of what he said during our sweet, brief conversation. We were at opening night of You're Welcome America with Will Ferrell on Broadway, that my office was a producer on, and we were next to each other while getting a drink. He was ahead of me, the bartender was girl, and she clearly wasn't seeing me. So he asked me what I wanted and asked her for it (because she was definitely paying attention to him). Then we talked about the show, work, his son. I thanked him for the hook up on the drink, and we went our separate ways, but bumped into each other a few more times. And even though clearly everyone knew him, everyone liked him, he was decidedly there by himself and seemed somehow like a bit of a loner. Even maybe a little bit lonely. Which, of course, only made me love him more. 

When I went outside to get a cab home, he was waiting just ahead of me.  He asked me where I was headed. I said "Astoria," and when a cab came, he said, "You take this one... you have a longer ride home than I do. So nice to meet you." Cue those sparkly eyes, unassuming smile, hands in pockets. He gave me his cab. Swoon. 

Anyhow, I hear mixed things about his new movie, Dinner For Schmucks, but I really enjoyed this Slate article, Save Paul Rudd. Just as, no matter what movie it is, I know I'll at least like all the scenes he's in. 

1 comment:

  1. VERY, VERY hot, and it doesn't seem to be diminishing with age. I don't know how you stopped yourself. If I met him, I would HAVE TO pinch his butt. ;)

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