The Atlanta Trotts with the Three Ts

I have a healthy obsession with Griffin Dunne.

I use the word healthy for a reason--I haven't seen all of his stuff, I don't go through his garbage, and if I ever saw him person I would probably just smile and nod. So, healthy. Yeah.

This talented man came into my life around 1990. I was a wee HellCat in the King Soopers grocery store, going through the used video cassette racks. I came upon this Madonna film I had never seen, as seeing as how she was my favorite star of all time, I couldn't pass it up. I slipped it into the cart and threw some frozen peas on top of it...and my romance with Who's That Girl, and consequently Griffin Dunne, was born.

He played the buttoned down tax attorney Louden Trott. For most of the film, he wore a tuxedo, and even pushed me closer to adolescence when he bared his chest for almost all of act two. He was funny, he was vulnerable, he let his guard down because the oh-so-captivating Nikki Finn got under his skin.

He was my first crush.

As I grew, I came to appreciate him for other roles in better films, like After Hours, American Werewolf in London, and Quiz Show. He even began to produce and direct. Recently, he even wowed me with his performance on that Celebrity Charades show on AMC.

I consider him to be an old friend. He's been there through it all--the time I got stomach flu on the way back from Santa Land (which put me off of funnel cake to this day), my first boyfriend and our romantic couple skating sessions at the roller rink, and even personal stuff like my first gynecological exam.

The other day, I had a realization.

I've even kissed him.

Yeah, I said what I said. It dawned on me that I have kissed Griffin Dunne. Not directly, of course, but in a roundabout sort of way. I kissed a guy who kissed his acting teacher who was childhood friends with Griffin Dunne, and she was his first kiss.

So I've kissed him, too.

It just goes to show that one day you're hiding used VHS cassettes under frozen veggies so your mom won't see it until it's already been scanned and bagged...and the next day you're sucking face with the star of that very film, sort of. I love this fucking city.

olive you. g