by Colin Thomas

Created on: June 11, 2008   Last Updated: October 31, 2008

"I should be doing something better than reading about how to get six pack abs," my better judgment lamented, scratching its way into my conscience like the needle on a phonograph record. I leaned one elbow against the magazine stand in protest instead of listening. After all, I had just finished grinding my eyes over a diagnostic explanation of Asperger's Disorder for school, and I really just wanted to do something mindless.

As I was standing at the magazine shelf, my eyes had full access to the glass doorway entering the bookstore. My eyes rose from the pages as the glass door swung open, to see a man walk through eating popcorn. A rush of excitement came over me. A feeling probably identical to those had by frenzied teenagers' before they shred the clothes off one of the Beatles. This man, Carl Weathers would be recognizable to any Rocky fan, as Apollo Creed. It was a moment that gravity drops on you, where your body doesn't know what to do. The surge of surprise needed to go somewhere and while my mind was saying "run around in circles like an idiot," I settled for being transfixed.

No one could say "Stallion" like Apollo Creed. The character had an energy, a palpable spark for life that was worthy of the man named for the Greek god of the sun. As a young boy I always wanted to see Rocky triumph, (kids are linear that way), but as I grew older I always respected his friend, Apollo Creed. As I glanced at Mr. Weathers, the last five seconds of Rocky three seemed to play over in my mind. The "friendly sparring" scene where Apollo back pedals around Rocky, and flashes a right fist that pauses in mid air, on its way to crack Rocky's face.

I felt that I needed to do something, so I hurriedly text messaged my brother. It read, "You're not going to believe this sh*t, I just saw Apollo Creed."Of course, I knew his name was Carl Weathers, but how often do you get to say something synonymous with "I saw Spiderman!" My brother called back immediately. "Wow, that's tight, you just saw fresh Carl Weathers?" I knew he'd share my excitement. "You should ask him for an autograph," He said.

This thought caused me to stricken. As much as I wanted to do/say something, my mind replayed the many celebrity/fan interactions gone wrong that I've heard about or witnessed on T.V. As I was speaking with my brother, Mr. Weathers was standing by the check out stand. But I noticed him slowly drifting toward the magazines. I started freaking out. He ended up at a magazine shelf about 3 feet from me. "Excuse me, Mr. Weathers? Wow, this is really an exciting day for me; you're like an icon in the business. Can I have your autograph?"

That's how it should have gone, but it didn't. Unfortunately I let my fear get the best of me that day, which led to the inevitable collapse of the moment. Something that I've had to come to grips with recently is that no matter how strong you think you are, no matter how hard you try, no matter how thoroughly scripted it is in your mind, life sometimes gets the best of you. The characters we see on the screen always seem to rise to the occasion and absolve their demons in less than two hours. In my life, this makes it much harder to deal with when the occasion wins. What gives me hope is that while our favorite character is locked in an endless loop of behavior, I know we get something far better. As long as the fates allow, we get tomorrow.

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