with Sly, Dean and Brando, Mickey
Rourke meant a lot to me throughout my late teens and up.
Here was a guy
who grew up tough and survived the bad cards that life had dealt him.
Granted, he’s fallen
many o’
times throughout his life, but he’s always gotten up.
That’s called
spirit, strength, back-bone and…being a man! I RESPECT THAT!
So when my good bud JoBlo told me that I was going to this year’s Cannes
Film Festival, I was happy. When I learned that Mickey Rourke was
going to be there…I was giddy like a teenage girl playing her first bamboo
flute.
This was my shot! All I
wanted was to shake his hand and say “thank you” for the inspiration that he
had
given me over the years.
Sadly, I didn’t get to meet him, but I did get to see him and
that was almost good enough. Let’s count the rounds!
ROUND 1:
This was how close I was…
I saw Mick on his way into
the press conference room of the Cannes Palais. I had been waiting there for an
hour in order to get a good spot. When he walked in, I couldn’t believe it.
There he was! The man who had meant so much to me throughout my “tough years”
and the man to whom I could turn whenever I was in need of "mantras": Mickey
"Freaking"
Rourke. He stood right in front of me (see pic above), I could’ve
easily spoken to him…so, of course…I froze like reindeer-steak in a freezer.
I…just…could…not…speak. And in he went! DING DING!
ROUND
2:
End press conference…end already!"
I was peeved at myself for
mucking up, but I wasn’t throwing in the towel just yet. My bud king JoBlo joined
me at this point and we both waited for the press conference to be over. It
ended and Mick strolled on out (along with his SIN CITY co-stars and crew). I
yelled out "Eddie Cook" (his screenwriting pseudonym– see HOMEBOY), but he
didn’t hear me (I forgot, he’s hard of hearing in one ear) and walked out the
building. Mickey escaped
me again. You sly one you! DING DING!
NOTE: Brittany Murphy gave me the “eye” though…which was kind of
kool.
Endless supply of mental self-love material right there!
ROUND
3:
I’m on the right…I’M
ON THE RIGHT!
This is the last round!
We knew Mick’s next move
was leaving the premises, so JoBlo and I ran
out and parked ourselves near the exit door. Finally, Mickey came out. He walked
to a car, smiling at the press with a kool-kat grin and stopped in front of a
black vehicle (see pic above).
I ran to where he was and stood 4 meters away as he talked to a couple of fans…waiting
for my turn to come (I’m too polite when sober). Mickey ended with those dudes
and started to get into the car. I yelled out “MICKEYYYYY” to get his
attention, but again, he didn’t hear me. JoBlo backed me up and hollered out
“Eddie Cook”…again…but no dice. He got in and the car (see pic below) drove
off…leaving me in a cloud of exhaust fumes.
"EDDIE COOK! EDDIE COOK!
And that was that on that!
I was TKO! I had three shots, blew them all and didn’t get to shake his hand or say
thank you. So I’ll say it here: "Mick…I doubt you read my rink-a-dink site,
but you just never know. So thanks man! Thanks for the inspiration, the fine
films, the wonderful performances and for re-integrating to me that the fight is
never over. Even when KO-ed, one can always get up, raise them fists and fight
again. I’ve been living off that joo-joo forever. MICCCCCKEYYYYYYY! YOU F*C
K!!!!!!!!!!!! THANK YOU!
PS: Ironically enough, a friend I made here in Cannes,
David Cholewa, got to meet Mickey at Luc Besson’s Cannes club “Europa”. That night, he called me on my cell to let me know that Mick was there and
even tried to
get me in the party. Alas, my review-writing ass was not welcome at that
shin-dig. At least
one big Mickey fan got to have his dream come through (see pic below). This dog
will have his day on another beer run!
Mickey and David…good shite Dave!