My Rob Lowe Story

I made reference to it earlier. . .

All of my girlfriends were twitter-pated about Brad Pitt in Legends of the Fall. I thought it was a stupid movie and Brad had poor personal hygiene.

I like Tom Cruise, but the whole Scientology thing is just weird, and the second Mission Impossible movie was just bad.

I liked Romeo and Juliet - and thought that Leonardo was enchanting. It was a truly spectacular rendition. Then I saw "The Beach", and I didn't so much want my money back, but I sure did want my time back. Ugh, it was "The Lord of the Flies" for stupid people.

So, I've never been that much for actors. Never that much for crushes. Never did the teenage heartthrob thing. In my second year of university I found The West Wing. And. . . .

Well, this guy named Rob Lowe.

And I really liked the television show. Really, not just because of Rob. (Honest, I kept watching even after he left the show in a fit of pique)
But Rob, he was a nice Sunday night companion. Then a Wednesday night companion. Just a nice point to the week. Not the highlight, but, you know, nice.

But I kept silent about this, shall we say, fascination with the Deputy Director of Communications. After all, I did like the President, I liked Josh, Toby reminded me of a friend, and I even liked Donna. And Mr. Spit had come along by this time, so obviously I didn't want to upset the apple cart. Mr. Spit has my entire soul.

Ahh, but Sam Seabourn, you held a place in my heart. Even when you gave your heart to a call girl. I thought it was sweet that you were trying to fix her. You could do no wrong in my eyes. I loved the music in your best episode. I've tried and tried to find it on iTunes. . . Ahh, my heart, it softened.

And then in April 2004, my life had just gone for well, you know the rest of the sentence. I'd been fired from a job that I had absolutely hated (Which meant I failed, and my friends, Mrs. Spit doesn't do failure well). And I had easily gotten a new job, but I wasn't sure I was going to like it. My boss was a bit of a jerk, the managing VP scared the pants off me (and I don't scare easily, but we called her the barracuda). I didn't know anyone at the office, except that universal creepy office lady that you just know, from the moment you meet her, you are going to spend the rest of your life trying to avoid.

And, one day after work I was in the local drugstore buying lipstick to soothe my wounded heart and there was this magazine and it had Rob. And my heart, it soared. I spent at least half an hour looking at the article. Ok, I'm kidding you all. I didn' t read the article, but oh, my the pictures. MMMM. Rob, in a wet shirt. Hallelujah and Glory! Can I hear an Amen? Alas Rob, you have your call girl, and, well, your wife, and I have Mr. Spit(whom I love). I reluctantly put you back on the shelf and got on with this thing called real life.

And it was my first real conversation with Gen, who was destined to become my best friend. It was about actors. And maybe I mentioned the magazine. In fact, maybe I mentioned it a time or two in the following years. Yea, with a wistful smile and a twinkle in my eye, I mentioned the magazine. Maybe once or twice.

And so, imagine my surprise when my best friend arrives with a package, right before Christmas, with a Christmas present she insisted I open. Which was surprising, because we don't usually open gifts in front of each other. And I had heard of this gift. She'd called me, early in October to ask if I'd ever ordered anything off eBay. And I asked what she was ordering - I got told "Your Christmas Present". Which is odd. Gen isn't an early shopping kind of lady. She made me buy lunch the day I bought my Christmas cards in October.
So, you can imagine my surprise, when I opened the wrapping, and there was this looking at me. (Mr. Spit was pretty surprised too.)
Oh Rob, it was worth the wait.

And that My friends, is my Rob Lowe Story.
PS - the Magazine is Details, May 2007 Issue, with Article text by Bill Carter and Photo's by Tom Munroe. Website Link is here.