From Famous Lips
By: Franco Amati
Tags: Prose, Scuzzbucket, Celebrity, Creative Non Fiction, Poetry

From Famous Lips

Photo by Chandrakanth Elancheran from Pexels

Today I received a gift from one of my best friends. I’ll call him Ben, because that’s his name.

Ben’s known for a while that I’ve been having a hard time — with life, with love, with all sorts of things — and so he said to me, “I got you a gift that will make you feel better for at least a week.”

I was intrigued, but also skeptical. He then sent me a link to a video. As I began watching the video I realized it was of a famous former player from the New York Knicks — one of my favorite players from the 90s, you know, back when the Knicks were good.

So, as this player started talking, I get taken aback, and I realize he just said my name. He’s actually talking to ME…wishing me happy holidays, telling me he knows things haven’t been going well for me, and that I should stay positive.

He then recounted a short but funny anecdote from his playing days where one of his teammates got drunk and lost two teeth on an airplane. I was genuinely laughing, but also still in disbelief that this was actually a message for me.

I’ve seen personalized video things where they just say some generic phrases and edit your name into it. In fact, I sent my brother one of these a few months ago, but it was mostly just a cheap funny gag.

That’s when I was certain that Ben had actually paid a non-negligible sum of money for this famous person to talk at me for, like, three minutes.

The video concluded with — and this is what put me over the moon, because clearly my best friend knows how to really get me — this former NBA star congratulated me on being a published fiction writer. Out of this world, right? The thing nearly had me in tears.

I felt like a kid again, waiting in the frigid cold behind the side exit of Madison Square Garden in Manhattan with a basketball and a Sharpie in my hand, waiting to get my favorite player’s autograph and hoping to hear just a few words come out of his mouth.

I thanked my friend profusely. The gift had worked. I was completely elated to have received it. But, of course, the cynical, too-smart-for-his-own-good side of me got triggered. Like, why are you so thrilled that you just got a message from a famous person? Like, it’s not as if anything he said was any different than what Ben himself could have said. In fact, much of what he said was so obviously prompted by Ben.

See the thing is, the message itself was intrinsically a love note of encouragement and solidarity from my best friend. It was just spoken through the famous lips of John Starks of the New York Knicks.

Is there something about celebrity and fame and the fact that this was an “important” person that made the message more profound? Because that shouldn’t have been the case. But I know for sure, if my friend just called me on the phone and said those same things, it would not have had the same effect. I would have been pleased, sure, but there’s no way it would have ignited that child-like giddiness that everything is actually going to be great and life will turn out amazing.

But it’s the same with everything. Whether it’s a best selling author or a professor who has a PhD or someone who’s been on TV for god knows what — we’re fascinated by prestige, and it shouldn’t be that way.

World renowned people don’t say things that are any more meaningful than you or me or any random sidewalk philosopher rambling on the streets. It’s the message that matters more — the spirit of the words themselves.

When I really reflected deeply on what happened today. After the wow factor of John Starks talking to me wore off, I realized that the true importance of the gift was the fact that my best friend knew how to reach me.

He knew what I needed to hear, what would cheer me up, and exactly how to say to me the words that needed to be said. It was love and encouragement and support, and even though it was filtered through the lips of celebrity, it landed in my heart in a way I would never forget.

So thank you, my friend. And thanks to all those who go out of their way to reach out to the lost and disenchanted when they need it most.