I’m a lurker not a poster, but I can’t resist adding my utterly shit twopenneth to this thread.
As a child, I met Jimmy Savile at a weird churchy jamboree at Holme Pierrepoint. He shook my hand and called me Gladys - still not sure why, perhaps it was my massive coke bottle glasses - and I got huge creepy vibes off him.
Michael Rosen came to our primary school for a ‘inspiring poetry session’ which was basically him in the hall, talking at us. This was the 80s; that was what passed as teaching at the time. Afterwards, he went to the staff room and all us children lined up outside, desperate for his autograph with all the fervour of youth. I was clutching my much loved copy of You Tell Me. Anyway, one of the teachers poked his head round the door and instructed us that
Mr Rosen would not be signing anything. I was actually quite gutted, but to be fair, I wouldn’t have wanted to endure 100 over-excited 10 year olds, if I was him.
My more recent celeb-adjacent stories don’t get any better. My husband is a history buff so we go to a lot of talks (basically grown up versions of the Michael Rosen event). I was a primary teacher, and I used to travel around with a small badger toy, our class mascot, and take photos of him doing ‘interesting’ things. Over the years, I’ve shamefully coerced several historian celebs into posing with it, ‘because the children will love it!’.
Max Hastings was bemused, but a good sport, and pretended to talk to the badger. Martin Bell was brilliant, and let me take quite a few photos because the light was so bad. Stanley Johnson (I know, I know…) was actually really game as well.
Paddy Ashdown was possibly the most prickly, and I think he thought I was tricking him into some bizarre gonzo stunt, as he insisted that I should also be in the photo and he held up a copy of his book, practically hiding my badger.
I nearly approached Jon Snow at Gatwick, but he got pulled over by security and they started going through his hand luggage. He had some pineapple print boxer shorts in there. It didn’t feel like the right time.
Obviously my class of ten year olds couldn’t have cared less about these fabulous photos that I had sold my pride to obtain.