Back more years than I dare to say, Carl Cipra (when Carl lived in LA, which should give some of you an idea of the time-frame) was a regular running partner with George. Fast-forward a few years to me meeting Carl (who had long since moved to the east coast) at the Troy, Michigan Gaylaxicon. I'm sitting in the hot tub (I think he was too), and I'm talking about meeting this really nice physicist from San Jose.
"Kevin? Kevin Roche? I haven't seen him in ages! He never calls, he never writes..."
I mention to K the next time we're on the phone (this is before I moved to CA) and we laughed about it. He and Carl have known each other for years, well back to the LA days.
So fast-forward again, and we're at the first San Francisco GLAAD Media Awards banquet (2000, I think, to which IBM had bought a VIP table, and we got two of the tickets for). We're standing in the silent auction before dinner, waiting in the drink line to get Cosmopolitans, and we hear this voice behind us. George, no agents, no handlers, no entourage is right behind us in the drink line. K says hi to him, and it takes a moment for George to make the connection; they had met through Carl at some conventions way back. "Carl! I haven't seen him in years! He never calls, he never writes..."
Needless to say when we saw Carl the next time he got an earful.
So we're fans, but we're safe fans that he's got a connection with. We all got Cosmos (he was presenting GLAAD's first "digital media" award with Jeri Ryan, which is another story, so he couldn't have too much).
Which, of course, meant that we were hanging out with George for the rest of the evening, except during the banquet itself (as it turns out his table was just ahead of ours), and quite regularly got mistaken for his "handlers" by press photographers. It was a riot.