Gerry Butler's Secret

Since posting Gerry Butler vs Bob there's been an interesting influx of emails to my .Mac account. I never responded and didn't think much of them, until this morning.

I woke to find 32 emails, all of which were from the same person and had the same text. There was no Subject and the query (if I can call it that) reads: "WHY WON'T YOU TELL ME ABOUT WHAT IT WAS LIKE TO MEET GERRY BUTLER? WHAT ARE YOU HIDING? DID SOMETHING HAPPEN BETWEEN YOU TWO??????"

I started writing an email, and then decided that I would rather respond to this on my blog and put it out in the open. If any of you are interested in adding your two cents, please feel free to do so.

Usually, I am very diplomatic and gracious to anyone who sends me anything pertaining to my blog, because I greatly appreciate that someone, anyone, would take the time to read anything I have to write. If today I falter and am rude, forgive me.

The assumptions in this email are numbered 1-3 and my responses lettered A-C:
.1. That because I'm not sharing, it inherently means that I'm hiding something.
.A. I'm not sharing anything because there's nothing to share, and not because there's something to hide. Meeting Gerry Butler at the Toronto International Film Festival was uneventful. (Sorry!)

.2. Whatever I'm hiding is either 'gossipy' or relatively illicit.
.B. Since I'm not hiding anything, there's nothing illicit or 'gossipy' to share. Nothing happened between us outside of a normal interaction that went a little like:

Gerry Butler: Hi.
Maha: Hey.

Maha: You're tall.
Gerry Butler: Thank you. I also have nice hair. MY GOD, just LOOK AT IT!

Gerry Butler: You have a weird name.
Maha: I do. Why didn't your mother name you Gerald? It's what everyone calls you, anyway, Gary.

Gerry Butler: MY GOD, have you NOTICED my hair?
Maha: You're tall.

Maha: Wait a second. I LIKE my name!
Gerry Butler: It's weird. Your mother should've named you 'Maria'. God DAMN IT, I'm sexy.

Maha: Your friend's cute. I'm sexy, too.
Gerry Butler: His hair's not as nice as mine. Besides, I have a secret.

Maha: Is your secret's name 'Maria'?
Gerry Butler: Oh my GOD. I can't STAND how smokin' I am! Whose Maria?
Maha: Your secret?
Gerry Butler: No, she's not my secret. But I do like her name. But not as much as my hair. MY GOD I have great hair.
Maha: Tell me your secret, please.
Gerry Butler: Promise not to tell anyone? But you can tell them I'm FOXY.
Maha: I may blog about it.
Gerry Butler: What's a blawgh?
Maha: It's something akin to smoke signals.
Gerry Butler: Did you say SMOKIN'? Like ME?
Maha: No.
Gerry: HA HA. Just KIDDING. Go ahead and blagh it.
Maha: Good. So, then, what's your secret?

Gerry Butler leans in to me and whispers: I'm wearing a wig.

.3. A sense of entitlement to information about 'celebrity' that overrides my 'normal' preference for privacy.
.C. You need both medication and therapy. That therapy should have at its epicenter your fucked up sense of entitlement to the life of any 'celebrity' at large, Gerry Butler specifically.

Good Luck & thanks for your email!

xo
Maha