Martin Short is my Justin Bieber

I met Marty, twice actually. Once in 2003 when he came to Louisville to do a show. My ex husband had gotten us tickets, because anyone who knows me, knows this is a gift I’d die for. Best gift I had ever and still have ever received actually. We went to the show, and it was just as amazing as I had ever dreamed. He came out and did the stance I love so much where he pushes his suit jacket aside and puts his hands on his hips and just stands there for the world to admire him. And they should, he is quite something to admire.

The show was hilarious, I remember it well even after almost 12 years have passed. I remember him coming out into the crowd and I remember my heart pounding as he walked past me. After the show was over, and my ex and I were walking to our cars I noticed a limo and a handful of people standing beside it. I recall telling him, “that’s his car, that’s got to be his car” And I recall him telling me “and over there is our car, lets go”  I tried to talk him into waiting with me, maybe we could get an autograph or something and he refused saying “If you love him so much wait and get a cab home” He didn’t think I would call his bluff, and to be honest I didn’t think he would call mine. The first time in  my life I had ever ridden in a cab lol. But I did. I waited about 20 minutes outside until the door opened from the Theater and to my amazement there he was right in front of me. Martin Short!! Standing right there in front of me. Oh how I wish camera phones had existed back then. He signed my ticket stub, patted my shaking hand, smiled and moved on to the next fan. Its strange to me that something so huge to me is just another day, and another fan to him. No big deal, but to me, I was literally on cloud nine for weeks.  Needless to say my first cab ride ever was well worth being abandoned in downtown Louisville for. No regrets here.

The second time I met him was this past year, in February of 2015. My daughter, who is now 16 and I took a trip to New York together and guess who just happened to be in “Its only a Play” the same weekend I selected to take her?? coincidence? Lets say yes so I don’t sound too much like a crazed stalker here. But in reality, I knew what I was doing, I knew that aside from some mother / daughter time that we desperately needed that we would be standing outside a stage door awaiting his arrival or departure several times that weekend. I actually wrote him a letter, before we even boarded the plane from Kentucky to New York. I wrote it several times, threw it away, wrote it again and talked myself out of taking it with me only to talk myself back into it. I carried the letter in my pocket from Louisville, to New York determined that if I got the opportunity I would hand deliver it to him. It wasn’t much, just a gushy fan letter telling him how much he means to me, and how much I loved his book and respected how much he cared for his late wife and so obviously adored her in his book. It was simply a letter getting everything I needed to say off my chest and by hand delivering it to him I would at least know that he knew he had changed someone’s life. He had given someone a reason to smile, and he had brightened someone’s day on many occasions. The first day we arrived in NYC we went and checked out the Jacobs Theater, because that is where his play was. I was just in awe. I kept telling my daughter “he’s in there. Martin Short is inside that building right now” And of course she’s looking at me like I’m a crazy person and responds “who cares where Martin short is mom” I explained it to her like this “you know all those crazy teen girls who are so in love by Justin Beiber? How they feel, how they act about him?? That’s what Martin Short is to me” Martin Short is my Justin Bieber!!!!

Once she finally gave in to the idea that some of our NYC time would be spent trying to deliver a note to the man of my dreams things went a little smoother. We talked to a few people and they showed us where to wait and told us what times he had been there in the days prior so we could try and be there around the same time. I feel so much like a stalker telling this story, but its not like I followed the man to his hotel room, or hid behind corners and watched his every move, I simply waited at the theater hoping to see his car pull up. Is that stalking?? There were several people there, and all waiting for someone else. I seemed to be the only Martin Short Fan on the streets (alley way of Jacobs theater) That day.  We waited for about 2 hours the first day, in freezing February New York weather. I felt guilty, and he didn’t arrive when the staff said he would so I told my daughter lets just forget it and enjoy our trip. I took the letter and threw it in a trash can right there on 45th street. We went on to enjoy our trip very much and had a great bonding experience. The day we were scheduled to leave we were actually walking around Times Square and I just kept telling my daughter, I want to try one more time, I just want to go and check and see if he’s arrived yet or not. So she and I, suitcases in tow walked down to 45th and were informed he had not yet arrived and should be coming anytime. I have a picture of my daughter on that day, in that alley way sitting on top her suitcase freezing in the snow waiting with me. She tells me its child abuse evidence 🙂 I tell her its a memory she will never forget. As we were about to give up yet again and make our way to the airport I saw a Black SUV pull up. I saw him in the backseat of the car. I yelled to my daughter ” its him, its him, get your camera” She ignored this request until it was almost too late thinking I was crazy and the video we have actually only shows his feet and the audio of me saying OH MY GOD OH MY GOD.  He got out of the car, and I walked towards him grinning like an idiot. He smiled back and I said “Can I please get a picture with you?” He said “Sure”

The last thing I remember was me telling him how much I loved his book and how I had come from Louisville just to see him. I don’t recall what he said in return. I was star struck. I so much regret the way I acted. I wish I had been calm enough and cool enough to have actually held a conversation with him. I regret throwing the letter away 2 days prior that I had carried from Louisville to New York just to give to him. However as he says in his own book, “Its the stars who were big to you when you were 12 that leave you unsteady on your feet”  I could walk past Brad Pitt, or Justin Beiber for that matter today and not really think twice about it, but Martin Short left me star struck, babbling like an idiot on the streets of New York. I remember watching him walk away, and down the alley towards the stage entrance. This memory is etched in my brain, him walking away from me and me being overcome with instant regret of things I should have said. I remember wishing he’d turn around, or look back but he didn’t. He went his way and my daughter and I went ours.

The aftermath of my “Martin Short High” as my daughter calls it ended up costing me about $500 because I couldn’t say no to anything she asked me for after that. I just handed her my credit card actually and let her spend away. $500 was cheap, now that I think about it,  that could have ended way worse. I have a picture of he and I  that I look terrible in, but he looks amazing. I am smiling like a moron, he has a huge grin on his face as well. I actually mailed the picture to him, requesting he sign it and mail it back. I am still awaiting that picture and its been 7 or so months so I don’t think I will ever receive it. The memory however will last forever. That picture is sitting on my desk at work and I smile daily looking at it and remembering the day I met my Justin Beiber.

2 thoughts on “Martin Short is my Justin Bieber

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s