What's Below the Surface: My Day with Pete Phillips

Walking into Pete's apartment, I didn't see him at all. Instead, draped over the top of a recliner, I saw a washed out tee shirt from the Church of the Assumption Community Festival. It's a white shirt, and the breast emblem is composed of faded shades of blue. It looks over-worn; it's been beaten and used, but still holds its shape and maintains its general function.

"I only washed it once," says Pete, as he enters from the kitchen, "Looks pretty bad though, huh?" The shirt, recently worn, is still used. Despite the shirt's condition, it's still a popular piece in the wardrobe. From spending a day with Pete, I'd guess he can relate to the shirt quite well.

We meet at 8:00 AM, as Pete tosses a messenger bag over his shoulder and heads out the door for work. "Karen let me borrow this one weekend when I interviewed at a music magazine in Philadelphia. I tried to give it back to her a dozen times, but she never took it. I just kept it when we broke up. Is that wrong?" Before I can even answer, Pete shrugs off the question and goes on his way.

Once outside the door-- exchanging salutations with Mary, an old woman in a walker waiting for her mini-bus to an adult daycare center-- groups of women and men crowd around him. They maintain a distance of respect, but are obviously big fans of his work. "For some reason I have a great way of attracting dudes who don't seem to like anybody but me. I just worry because they like me so much," says Pete.

The ladies are another story, it seems. Pete walks on with confidence and an oblivion to the women around him. He acts as if he's grown out of such needs as gawking over women. "I suppose I have, but that would make it sound like I gawked at one time. Now it's different. I have a strong ability to attract women in existing relationships. They're very quick to assure me that, if single, I'd have a good chance."

The compliment does nothing to boost his self-esteem. He cites Greg Kirschner, long-time friend and collaborator on such adventures as Little Caesar's and Foam Soap, and his interpretation of the words. Greg explains that second place means first loser, so you're still at a loss. "Sometimes though, I like to think it means that women in relationships know what counts and can tell I have it. That's what I think when I'm feeling good anyway," says Pete.

And Pete feels good all the time. Just this past year he's written two feature-length screenplays and hopes to be "doing something" with them in the near future. He's also maintained a good standard of living in a fairly depressed area. The sun barely shined during my stay with Pete, but it really didn't matter. The light of positivity from Pete was enough to brighten the space and warm me up.

When we arrive at Pete's office, at a company that did not sign a release to be mentioned in this piece, he was obviously a star. He sang hellos to dozens of people and showed an interest in all of their lives. Even more people came to him with various questions and he had reliable answers for them all. "I don't know what I would do without this guy. He's a lifesaver on so many levels. Whether it's a technology problem or a home problem-- even a fashion problem-- he's always willing to lend an ear," said Scott Haim.

Pete had another story to tell. "I'm really glad to help so many people, and I enjoy it a lot. Sometimes you don't get that sense of appreciation though, ya know? Sometimes you like to hear, 'Good job,' or 'Keep it up.' But I guess work's not for that. Maybe the paycheck is your appreciation. Sometimes it's not enough though," says Pete.

When lunch comes, I expect a seat at a fancy local restaurant with white table cloths and shining silver forks. Not Pete Phillips, though. The fame hasn't gone to his head at all. He exploded onto the scene five years ago, but still keeps in touch with his old life. At his apartment, we have some salad and sandwiches. It felt strange to have my food prepared by a star, but I couldn't rightfully stop him.

"Don't worry about it Barry. I know what it's like to be the working man. Sometimes you have to let others do for you, so you don't forget what it's like to have others help you out. We all need some help once in a while. No one likes a loner," Pete says, placing my meal in front of me. "Whether it's baking a cake or sending a little card in the mail, you gotta let special people know that you care."

But it's not always so easy for Pete Phillips. Despite his stardom and charm, there are still a few who resist joining his force. Some days it plagues Pete, but not today. His passive attitude keeps him very down to earth. "Maybe some people are suspicious because I'm better than they can imagine. You know, 'too good to be true, must not be,' which I can understand. I myself have a hard time trusting people who don't curse or don't say bad things about others once in a while."

Pete has cut down on the bad things about others as of late. In his fourth year his website updates have taken a bit of a decline. Entertaining videos will come down the line on occasion, but the absence of written material is quite noticeable. Casually, Pete admits that he can't be on all the time, "Even the Beatles had time in between records."

Time is treating Pete quite well. In between his updates he has spent more time with his wife, Trudy, and their 7-year-old son, Leroy. My day comes to an end hearing a tale of Green Eggs and Ham, laying on an Aerobed and sharing the room with Leroy. Pete reads the final lines with gratitude for something a bit higher than Sam-I-Am. "I do so like green eggs and ham. Thank you. Thank you, Sam-I-Am."

 

 

 

 
 
Just about all this crap is by Pete Phillips
Most material © Pete Phillips Enterprises 2004-07
Pete Phillips Enterprises inspired by Tom Jones Enterprises