The Fame Game
A young lady I met out on the town a few weeks ago recently called and said the following: "I'm sorry to have to ask you this, but are you gay?"
Now, I understand fully that I am obsessive-compulsive and anal and that these tendencies often manifest themselves in exceptional grooming/off-the-chain interior design, but that does not mean I'm gay. Bi-curious when drunk, maybe, but not gay.
"Why do you ask?" I inquired.
"Well, I googled you and..."
She did not need to finish her sentence, because I knew immediately what had transpired. One of my hater-ass friends who just can't cope with my weekend-sports-guy level of local celebrity had fucked with my Wikipedia page. Again.
When my little sister pointed out a few months ago that I had a Wikipedia page (http://en.wikipedia. org/wiki/Adam_Cayton-Holland), I was floored. I know that anyone can make his own page, but I hadn't done that. Instead, some weirdo in cyber-land had made one for me, no doubt prior to two-fisting handfuls of Funyuns, then returning to blogging about kiddie porn. Oddly, this weirdo had done a great job with my Wikipedia page, keeping it succinct and to the point: Adam Cayton-Holland is a humor columnist and stand-up comedian in Denver, the entry read, then listed a few of my stories and noted that I appear frequently at the Comedy Works. Bully for me, right? But my friends could not leave well enough alone. First, my good buddy Brett decided to add a few facts about Adam Cayton-Holland's good buddy, Brett. I very politely informed Brett that while I found his web musings amusing, I genuinely enjoyed the simplicity of my Wikipedia page and would appreciate it if he would be so kind as to delete his work and leave my online encyclopedia entry be. Brett complied, but the word was out: Adam doesn't like it when you fuck with his page. To my friends, that's as good as a green light.
"There has been some controversy due to Cayton-Holland's recent arrest on molestation charges," was the next quip.
Then someone decided to rant about Los Comicos Super Hilariosos, my monthly comedy show: "The event was thrown into controversy last year after one comedian began masturbating on stage as part of his act. According to police reports, the audience was calm until the comedian then lit a cigarette on stage, causing a violent reaction from onlookers. Three were injured in the ensuing melee, including local newscaster Ernie Bjorkman, who was rushed to Denver Health and treated for head lacerations."
Aren't my friends just too hilarious? When I get big, my life will be nothing like the show Entourage, because I am leaving these fuckers the fuck behind.
And then came this: "Cayton-Holland, a long-time Denver resident, has lived with his partner, Stephen, and their two prize winning show-dogs, for the last three years."
Har-de-har-har. Now girls who googled me thought I was gay. Hilarious. Still, I kept pretty cool about people messing with my page, because it only affected me. But then it came to my attention that someone has been hating on Cayton-Holland in direct relation to East High School.
You can hate on me, players, but you keep East High School out of your motherfucking mouth.
Wikipedia East High School. Go ahead, do it. Now scroll down to the "notable alumni" portion of the page. Who appears right beneath Beat icon Neal Cassady? That's right: Adam Cayton-Holland, writer at Westword, sandwiched between Cassady and my boy Don Cheadle. But poke around a bit further and you will find that someone has had the audacity to "challenge" my status as a notable alumni, and that Wikipedia's editors are taking this challenge seriously. My anonymous challenger apparently feels that I don't belong in the rarefied company of Douglas Fairbanks Jr., Harold Lloyd, three members of Earth, Wind & Fire and Pam Grier.
To this person, I say: How dare you? Not treating me as the famous Angel that I am is not only an insult to me, it's an insult to every Angel to ever pimp-limp through East's halls. I did not get slammed into lockers at East for three years to be treated like this. Let me ask you, would a not-notable alum go out for a drink with Dealin' Doug? Would a not-notable alum get booked to do a two-nighter comedy show in, oh, gee, I don't know, Gillette, Wyoming? That's a paid road gig. And how about the time I appeared on Channel 4 at 6 a.m. to discuss a Westword prank where we pretended we were the cast of The Real World: Denver? Let's add this up: Drink with mega-celebrity + paid to appear on stage + TV time = fame. Scratch that: mega-fame.
Now that the matter's settled, I must confess that it feels good to possess this insane amount of fame. You know what it feels like? It feels like I'm gonna live forever. In a way, it feels like I'm gonna learn how to fly. High.
And it certainly doesn't feel gay.
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