Celebrity sighting

I picked the Palms for tonight's poker session. (Hmmm. It's always hard to come home in the middle of the night and decide whether to call what just transpired "tonight" or "last night." Not that anybody really cares, I suppose.) I had not been there in a month or so, but previous Sunday sessions at the Palms have been quite juicy.

To my surprise, I sat down with a celebrity on my immediate right. You have to guess who it was. Hint: Think former child star.

OK, there's a lot of those, so I'll give you another hint. This is me, doing my impression of this celebrity's most famous pose:



That's right. I was seated next to Edvard Munch's painting, "The Scream."

No, no. It was Macaulay Culkin. By the time he left, I was liking him so much that I couldn't bear to get all goofy and ask for permission to take his picture. I'm sure he would have allowed it, but my guess is he got tired of that many years ago, and it's a burden to be asked, even if only a minor one.

He was very cool and normal. If you didn't recognize his face, nothing about his conduct would have betrayed anything Hollywood about him. He talked about poker and sports, like most people do in that setting. He was smart and funny and engaging.

He is also no slouch as a poker player. He is loose-aggressive, playing his monster hands just the same way as his bluffs, making it unusually difficult to figure out what he's doing. He is considerably better than the average Vegas tourist.

Nevertheless, I'm pleased to say that I won both of the only two sizable pots we contested together, one with what I thought was a rather nice all-in check-raise bluff, and the other by slow-playing pocket queens and using his habitual aggression (and my position) to trap him.

In short, he was both a pleasure to play with, and a challenge to play against. That's not something I can say about other recognizable faces that I've run into over the green felt in this city.

I almost made a huge faux-pas, however. An opportunity arose to make a nasty little Michael Jackson joke. It was on its way out of my mouth--my mouth literally open and the first syllable out--before, thankfully, I had a flash of memory that Culkin was called to testify in Jackson's trial. As I recall the situation, when Culkin was overwhelmed with the publicity and attention of being one of the biggest child stars ever, not getting to live a normal childhood, Jackson befriended him and allowed his ranch to be a place that Culkin could escape the world. I can understand why one would have life-long gratitude for such kindness and solace. I would feel awful if I had actually made the smart-ass remark, putting Culkin in an awkward position--especially since I don't really believe that Jackson was guilty of anything criminal. Of course, if I were a better person, I'd learn not to make such unkind comments about people at all, regardless of whether they may have an old friend within earshot. But for now, I'm just glad that some sort of mental filter engaged itself in the last split second I had to avoid being the clod that ruined everybody's good time.

A genuine pleasure to have spent an hour or so in your company, Mr. Culkin.