Fame, I’m gonna learn how to fly

We met Mark Zuckerberg at Facebook last week.
Seemed like a lovely lad, but it was one of those kinda forced situations where we end up being corralled into posing for photos and making the chat while we huddle up (Must get the pic with Mark!!). Arms around strangers for the cameras.
Must have been a bit mad for him. He’d just arrived form the G8 summit in Paris, had never been to Ireland before, and he’s on the blustery rooftop with a band he doesn’t know waffling about the great lineage of bands playing on rooftops that we were now part of…he was confused by The Beatles on the roof of the Apple building – no, it was indeed a different Apple…which was before that again a fruit.
He was polite and interested in our album and tour, understandably spacing off as the attention swirled around him….I was tempted to ask him how much he had in his pocket, or, to see if he was paying attention, if he’d ever seen his Mammy in the bath…

At the Late Late show on Friday Dom and Dave met Gabriel Byrne on the way back from make-up and were having the chat. Turns out we have some mutual friends in Brooklyn. Dom felt a presence at his side and heard a voice “step aside please”, looked to see a Big Guard in Hi-Vis and An Taoiseach Enda Kenny’s hand thrust towards Gabriel…”I really enjoyed our chat” he said to Gabriel, leaning in with gravitas, looking at the boys in a “who the fuck are you” kind of way.

We queued for fucking ages to go through immigration in Dublin Airport yesterday morning. When we finally got through, a member of staff came up and said ” I only just realized who you are – Bell X1. Next time, say it to someone wen you come in and we’ll fast-track you as VIPs. Very sorry.”
Now, I know this sort of hierarchy exists in many ways, but why should some people be able to bypass this sort of ballache on account of their fame?
I would have thought US immigration would be one of the great levelers, especially having heard stories of folks more famous than us or Jesus having to go to the pharmacy in Ballsbridge near the embassy to have their visa photos retaken as their head was too big in the ones submitted…
Having said this, if we were to encounter another queue like Monday’s and someone said “this way, Gentlemen”, unclipping one of those recoiling belt yokes…
The problem with our kinda-sorta fame, is if we were to muster up the courage to say “Eh, we’re, like, Bell X1” a likely response would be “Yea, so wha?”