zen.org Communal Weblog

Tonight Patrick and I went into a wine merchant to pick up a bunch of Stimson Merlot for the upcoming holiday festivities. We walked up, and who was leaving the shop but Elvis Costello. He held the door open for us, as polite as can be. I didn’t have the nerve to wish him luck at the Grammy Awards next year, nor to be honest did my brain recognize him until seconds later after the door had closed. That’s okay, though—he was just another guy getting some wine, and I wouldn’t want to intrude on his ability to live a calm life away from his work.

As I learned when E and I were in Los Angeles, it’s cool to know the person behind the name is a nice normal human being, and not drowning in their own greatness. Even enough to still do common courtesies.