Except for the hotel room and bat franchise. This is George Clooney answering the question, “How often do you get homesick?” (W Dec. ’13 art issue). It is exactly how I feel… And why I feel blue during those holidays we don’t travel.
… and subsequently make an utter fool of myself by simply standing there, slack jawed and speechless, it would be in front of this guy.
I adore him. Yes, for all the obvious reasons, but he just sounds like a person who is comfortable in his own skin. Confident, self-assured, in a charming, self-deprecating way.
Like my husband.
I just read a post about this interview, in which the post’s author concludes that Clooney is an a-hole.
Nope. I don’t see it. I just don’t.
He is “a guy gracious enough to ascribe all that came to him as a matter of luck—while holding an ingrained conviction that nothing is ever really accidental.”
Also, he looks so much like my brother it freaks me out sometimes. (And I’m not kidding, our daughter just walked by, saw the computer screen, and said, “Is that Nana?”–Hindi word for maternal grandfather.)
Maybe we’re distant cousins. This gives me great consolation.
(If you have a few minutes and feel like believing everything is right with the world, read the interview.)