Didn’t y’all remember how I met Billy Bob last year for those 10 minutes? We are like thisclose. He seemed like a regular guy, though in real life he isn’t big enough to hang from a key chain, but recently went on a bizarre rant to a Canadian radio host about how he was a musician not an ACTOR. Whatever you do, don’t call him an actor.

Well.

I’ll leave that debate for people who aren’t as close to him as I am.

But my ability to empathize with stars stems from that fact that I, myself, have had a brush with celebrity.

Please tell me you haven’t forgotten that, too.

When the film “Constellation” was made in Huntsville in 2005, a reflection of my shirt makes an appearance in the glass inside EarlyWorks Museum, costarring alongside the likes of Billy Dee Williams and Gabrielle Union, who, by the way, is just a lovely girl.

Ever since that movie debuted, doctors practically throw prescriptions at me, designers won’t stop sending beaded gowns and photographers follow me everywhere.

OK, just our newspaper photographer, Kim.

When we’re on assignment.

And I make her.

Still.

It has been difficult, and sometimes painful (like when Kim pushes my out of the front of the camera and tells me I’m not supposed to be IN the shot.)

I have seen the dark side of celebrity — like debt.

Especially the debt.

Hmm. Maybe I can find the shirt I wore in “Constellation” and put it for auction on eBay right next to Michael’s glove.