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From Anthony Qaiyum, Politics & Community Editor:

Fame is nothing new to Williamstown. The annual summer Theatre Festival has been attracting actors, writers, and other celebrities to the area long before my time. In honor of that tradition, Pappa Charlie's, a local deli, offers over 50 sandwiches and meals, most of which are named after famous actors and personalities who have spent time here in the Berkshires. A "Mary Tyler Moore" is a bacon, lettuce, tomato, and avocado sandwich. The "Judge Reinhold" is a turkey, lettuce, tomato, and coleslaw sandwich with thousand island dressing. And the "Christopher Reeve" is a piece of vegetable lasagna with a side salad.

Everyone here at Tripod had joked around at one time or another about the celebrities we'd spot this summer. I heard that Marisa Tomei was going to be in town, and I lamented the fact that, between her rehearsals and my work schedule, we wouldn't have much time to spend together. Kara mused the possibility of starting up another fling with perennial Billsville bigshot, Matthew Perry. And I think I even heard Tung dreaming out loud about the chance of challenging Ricardo Montalban to a Bailey's Irish Cream drinking contest. He kept repeating "Quienes mas macho?" as he typed away at his keyboard.

But we were all kidding. We weren't going to get all worked up about people just because they had been in movies -- or so I thought. I had already eaten dinner next to Olympia Dukakis one night. No big deal. She was just an average person having some food and drinks with her friends; nobody bothered her. I had hoped that things would be that low-key whenever celebrities were sighted, but that's not the way it worked out.

On July 3rd, I was sitting with some friends having some beers at The Purple Pub, the local watering hole, when someone ran in and told us that Gwyneth Paltrow was over at Mezze, the town's chic "bistro." "She's so skinny," the starstruck messenger reported. Then, measuring about three or four inches between her thumb and forefinger, she stated, "She has this much space between her thighs." Eyes widened as they stared at the re-creation of Ms. Paltrow's thigh space, and soon most of the people at the table were off to Mezze.

I sat there with the other person who was left in the dust, contemplating the nature of fame. What, we wondered, would make someone run off to see a movie star -- especially one that has not really proven herself as an actor? Do people feel more important, or more fulfilled after having laid eyes on a real, live celebrity? How can being recorded on film give someone such a heightened aura that they can fill a bar with onlookers?

I stayed at the Pub, determined to avoid the allure of fame calling me from Water Street. I was happy enough with my life as a beer-drinking foosball player, comfortable in the knowledge that I didn't need to enhance my existence through some minor brush with stardom. So I proudly sign off as a secure guy -- a Williamstown resident and a Tripod editor, determined to bring you great web content and services.

Take care, Anthony Qaiyum

PS -- Okay, okay. I cannot tell a lie. Once the Pub closed, I wandered over to Mezze, trying to convince myself I was only going to see my star-gazing friends. But after little more imbibing, I did sneak a few glimpses of the fancy Hollywood blonde. I regretted it right away. When I woke up the next day with cotton-mouth and a throbbing head, I knew that I probably deserved it.

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Read more "Letters from Tripod" in the archive.

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