Kind of inspired by Brogan's thread, but in the real world. Here's mine. I offer it as proof of my geek status. I was traveling with a co-worker from DFW to Las Vegas, the typical sales conference kind of meeting. I travel way too much. No one should be Executive Platinum with American Airlines before turning 40, but I was. The good part back then is you could pretty much guarantee on being upgraded to first class on any flight. This one was no different. Have you ever seen someone famous, but they don't look quite the same in person, enough that you think it might be them, but you aren't sure? Well, thats what it was like in the gate waiting to board. First class board first, so we took our seats as did tis individual. Still not quite sure. The flight attendant starts asking the first class travelers what we would like to drink before takeoff and when I heard the voice, all doubt was gone. Leonard Nimoy was sitting one row up and across the aisle from me. Mr. Spock. Star Trek legend and boyhood idol. My coworker was also a pretty good friend. We had worked together for many years over several companies. And he knew how big a Star Trek fan I was. I watched them all. Every episode of every series, including the deadful Enterprise and the last few lousy movies. He's trying to get me to talk to him, get an autograph or something. But I won't. He keeps pushing me. Finally, I tell him that this was my boyhood idol and part of the reason I work with computers in the first place. He's probably going to some convention in Vegas and those are the largest collection of disfunctional virgins on the planet. He'll have enough questions and sign plenty of autographs soon enough. The best thing I can thing of to thank him for the hours of enjoyment he's brought me is to just leave him alone and grant his anonymity for a few hours at least. 90 minutes later, we land and exit the plane. As we walk up the ramp, Leonard Nimoy stops, turns around to me, says thank you and extends his hand. I shake his had and tell him he's welcome before he turns and walks away. Thats my brush with fame. Nothing spectacular, no memoribilia or autographs. But to me, since my actions were genuinely offered and geuninely appreciated, it means so much more than any tengible object ever could.