Meeting Mel Gibson

I know that you think your other blogs love you like I do, but seriously – who brings you stories like this besides me?

Evan and I were hanging out at my place last night. The neighbors were having a party, as they often do, and we could hear it in my room. For some reason I can never hear the blaring music, but it sounds as though the “clip clop” of the hot girls’ stilletos are in my place.

I normally don’t really like parties, but my neighbor has transformed his condo into a high end club, complete with hot tub on the roof and large granite bar. He always has at least two girls to every guy, and the girls are always pretty. It’s tough not to like that party.

Evan and I stop by to say hi. I saw the faces that usually show up at the party as well as the two girls who had found their way to my condo the night before and tried to ride my electric skateboard. I chatted with my neighbor in the entrance for a minute when he said, “Tynan…. let me introduce you to someone”.

We walked into the living room and two girls parted to reveal Mel Gibson standing facing them. I shook his hand, as well as the hand of the star of his new movie, “Apocalypto”, Rudy Youngblood.

“I hear you have a swing set up at your side.”

Everyone who goes to the parties hears about the swing. I guess it made quite an impression. I like it because it gives me something to talk about.

After explaining the swing he asked about my hat. This lead to a spirited debate about my hat. Everyone loves it, except for Evan, who tried to convince people it was hideous. Mel was on my side.

He was a great conversationalist. He never bragged, had really interesting stories, had lots of charisma, and was extremely friendly. I got the impression that he would be the center of attention even if he was a plumber rather than an actor.

We stayed at the party for a few hours. At one point everyone came over to my backyard because Mel wanted to try the swing (“I jumped off of a 175 foot building for a movie – I can try the swing”). However, when I set it up he declared, “No offense, but your setup is shit.” He meant it in the nicest way possible, and talked to me about how it was a good idea but should be done safely.

I wandered back to the neighbor’s to rejoin the party. I talked with Rudy, which was very interesting. He’s never been in a movie before, but now he’s the star of a huge movie, and is about to be catapulted into stardom. I’ve known a reasonable number of famous people, but I’d never met someone who was on that cusp of fame before. The blend of pride, anxiety, and confusion was fascinating. “It hasn’t really hit me yet,” he said.

He loved talking about the movie and told me a lot of interesting things about it, and the industry. He talked about being chased by a jaguar for the movie, about being in the jungle, and about how Harry Knowles is important to Hollywood.

After a while I decided to head back to my place to see what was going on there. Mel Gibson was on the couch with his knee against a girl’s back.

Huh?

He was performing some chiropractic maneuver on her. He wasn’t faking, either – he knew a lot about it. He cracked Evan’s back and she said that he was as good as any chiropractor. The girl whose back he was re-aligning was smitten, but it was obvious he wasn’t interested in her – just in his chiropractics.

He left to go get a red bull (he doesn’t drink anymore), and there was a silence as Evan, that girl, and I looked at each other.

“Yeah, so I’m pretty sure Mel Gibson just cracked my back,” said the girl, starstruck. She went back to the party and followed him around like a puppy dog for the rest of the night. He would do funny things like sit in a chair with no adjoining seats to try to get rid of her, but she didn’t get the hint. She would sit on the coffee table.

At one point some girls dragged him onto the dance floor and he showed off some really crazy irish dancing. The girls would try to grind and club dance with him, but he wasn’t really having it.

Eventually I went back home and fell asleep to the arrhythmic clomping of high heels. What a strange life I have.