My D-List Life As A D-List Canadian Celebrity Spotter

Earlier in the week, I had to withdraw some money from my local east-end bank. I noticed a man skulking around by the window. He was wearing a pseudo hipster casual suit and his hair was bottle black. He looked familiar, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. It was my turn to use the machine, so as I was pressing the buttons, I turned around to see if this man had left yet. He hadn't. He was beginning to creep me out a little because he was trying so hard not to be noticed that he stood out like someone dressed up as a hotdog at a funeral. I can only assume that the woman at the other machine was his girlfriend and he was waiting for her. I finally realized who it was. It was the "Simon Cowell" judge from Canadian Idol. I couldn't believe that he was trying so hard not to get noticed. He should be so lucky that someone would actually stop and say something like: "Oh, aren't you that wiener who willingly got paid to listen to teenagers singing Phil Collins' power ballads and then complained about their song choice?"

Definitely D-list Canadian celebrity, rapidly descending into obscurity. Watch the clip of manufactured tantrums below. The judge that was skulking around bank machines in East York is the wanker in the leather jacket, not the wanker in the bad sweater. Meeeow.

This reminds me of the time we took our son to an after-hour children's walk-in clinic for pink eye. Like all the parents there, I was kept waiting for an eternity. Who else was waiting forever? It was none other than the premier purveyor of the most over-rated, boring films in Canada. I think only film critics have actually made it through any of his films and only because they have to. Like the Canadian Idol judge, this gentleman was doing everything in his power not to be noticed by the common people. He had his back awkwardly turned away from everyone and had his head down, when he wasn't on his cellphone. His poor son had to come and tell him when it was his turn to go in. Maybe I'm being too harsh. Perhaps he was hunched over his final revision of a scene from a film that was being filmed the next day.

When I told a table of teachers at my school about it, they didn't even know who I was talking about. Who am I talking about?

On a happier note, I saw a cool Canadian DIY celebrity today. I only know about Jim Caruk (of HGTV's "Real Renos") because my husband watches the show. I find the show boring, but Jim is funny. You get the feeling he spends 90% of his time on his cellphone and the other 10% he rides around on a forklift and they get the action shots for the show. Anyway, I was working on my crochet at a Tim Hortons up at Yonge and Eglinton in the lunch hour today. As I gnawed on my cheese bagel, I noticed a manly man dashing across the street. He needed a good haircut, but was wearing his "touch of grey" quite well otherwise. It was Jim. He doesn't care that everyone knows he goes out in public and crosses public streets. Good for you Jim! He actually smiled at me, or perhaps looked in bewilderment at a woman hooking and chewing at the same time.

Yeah baby! The closest thing we Canadians have to a Mike Rowe dude. I bet he uses a two-in-one shampoo and never has his hair touched by a stylist.