I'm going to a meet n' greet with Val Kilmer. Yes. Seriously. He's coming to Hannibal, Missouri to promote a pet project--in which he will play Mark Twain--and I got a ticket. (No, I'm not making a single bit of this up. I'm dead serious, people!) You can read all about the event here.
I've also learned something. How you react to the name "Val Kilmer" can, within 3 years, predict how old you are. Really.
For instance, if you say, "Val Kilmer? Is that a guy or a girl?" then I know immediately that you are a snot-nosed teenager who should be sentenced to watch Real Genius until you learn some respect for your elders.
If you say, "Val Kilmer? That creepy old guy?" then I know immediately that you are between the ages of 22 and 28 and should be locked in a room with Willow--and also the actor playing Willow, Warwick Davis (whom you probably only know as Professor Flitwick, you youngin').
If you say, "Oh my God, THE Val Kilmer? Can I come with you?" then I know that you between the ages of 29 and 45, and were going to the movies with me back in the late 80s and early 90s, when Val's intense acting and hunky bod took up almost all the space reserved for 'bad boys' in our hearts and minds. These women are my friends and do not have to be sentenced to watch Tombstone or Top Gun. They were already planning on coming over and bringing popcorn, wine, and tales of teenaged lusting-in-our-hearts.
If you say, "Oh, that Val Kilmer was quite something back in the day, wasn't he?" then I know that you are probably pushing 50 or higher, and you also saw Val in his prime, but were old enough at the time to *not* develop extensive, high-school crushes on an unattainable actor, no matter how focused his gaze could be. You're also invited to movie night, and will probably bring Junior Mints.
If you say, "Wasn't he in that movie from the 70s?" then I know that you are probably my Gram, who turns 97 today, and further attempts at explanation will only lead to the Spiral of Chit-Chat Death, so I'll just change the subject to how to pronounce the name of the new St. Louis Cardinals (Mah-THEN-ee, for the last time!)
An Evening With Val Kilmer isn't until May 2nd, which means I've got *loads* of time to drop another twenty pounds, find the perfect I'm-married-but-still-got-it outfit, and practice NOT devolving into a giggling, gushing, 16-year-old version of myself.
Because I'm going to meet Val Kilmer. THE Val Kilmer.