Over the course of a lifetime—and at fifty I figure I've already run through roughly 1/3 of the sands I'll be allotted through the ol' hourglass—you tend to bump up against a lot of interesting characters. Some of them are famous or have achieved some measure of greatness in their lives. The rest are like, well . . . um . . . The Three of You™ who read this space. And me.

From time to time we actually get to meet those featured on Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. Some of us while dining and rubbing well-heeled elbows with them at Chez Whizzzzz . . . the rest of us end up cleaning their pools or clipping their poodles.

Granted that those of us who reside in, say, Waterhole, NM or Brrrrrrrrr, Antarctica find that spotting and meeting celebrities can be a frustrating, yet rewarding, experience. One that tends to occur with the frequency of each appearance of Halley's Comet. You can wait your whole life at the McDonald's in Crawford Corners, IA and never see Bill Clinton chomping on a Big Mac at the next table. OK, bad example.

This is the tragic subplot in the somewhat dreary lives The Three of You lead. Sadly, I am unable to relate to this dreaded malady I like to called CCDD or Chronic Celebrity Deprivation Disorder (CCDD, incidentally, is the number 1200 as cited in the bestseller, Roman Numerals for Dyslexics). As a resident of Los Angeles for the better part of one score and three years (that's 161 years for all you dog lovers out there) I find it's difficult to walk to my mailbox without tripping over Lorenzo Lamas pulling my weeds or Robert Culp blowing our grass clippings, at my behest, into the neighbor's yard. Trash can space, like real estate, is a precious commodity in this town. But celebrities are not. They are, quite literally, everywhere.

And yes, MR. GP Blogs has been truly blessed with his share celebrity sightings while tending his own little corner of the world and, yes, occasionally slips into the annoying habit of referring to himself in the third person like so many of his famous acquaintances and lawn boys. Ol' GP just hates it when that type of vanity rears its ugly head. He really does.

So it occurred to me that those of you in Zephyr Falls, GA and Haines Underwear, ME might really get a kick out of living your otherwise empty lives a bit vicariously through the truly exciting CEL (Celebrity Enhanced Life) I have experienced as a geographically-blessed bon vivant.

As such, over the next couple of weeks I will count down The Official GP Blogs Top Ten Brushes With Greatness™, describing them in as much resolute detail that will still permit each of you to keep the contents of your most recent meal down and running through the digestive mill.

Ol' GP can't wait to get started.

Be still your obscure, celebrity-starved hearts.