Where Are They Now – Geoffrey Giraffe

In the 1980s and 90s Geoffrey Giraffe was the epitome of ChildHood merriment. A cultural icon of his time. Beloved by millions before unfortunate, but avoidable, circumstances ruined his life.This is part three in a five part interview. 

Please start at part one.

Geoff’s Trailer

Approaching the last two days of my time in Biloxi I found myself sitting in on a Zoom therapy session in Geoff’s living room. He’s sitting in his dilapidated recliner with a laptop on a TV tray in front of him. The rules of the session are, according to Geoff, the following:

• Camera’s on – no hiding.
• Be Sober – don’t diminish your truth, feelings, or problems.
• Be Honest – truth hurts and that’s okay.

For legal reasons I was not allowed to record any part of the session because there are others involved who didn’t agree to have their problems exposed to the public. If you had seen the screen you would have recognized almost everyone on there. If you were born in the ‘80’s you would have recognized all of them. They all share the same kinds of stories – the rise, the fall, the attempt to keep it all. They have all seen the highest of highs and the lowest of lows.

For those that have never been in the public eye it’s probably hard to understand how fame can turn on you. At one point you can get anything you want, and then it can turn on a dime and you can’t get a free cup of coffee. The rules of fame are fickle.

After the session Geoff and I are sitting on his porch enjoying a beautiful southern evening. Storm clouds are on the horizon and you can feel the electricity in the air.

Travis: I miss this about living out here. Summer storms. We don’t get these back home. 

Geoff: Yeah? I pity you man. Thunderstorms coming in off The Gulf are beautiful.

Travis: When I was at Keesler I was, essentially, a student and they could control everything I did. When there were storms like this, if there was “lightning in five”, they would lock the whole student part of the base down and you wouldn’t be allowed to leave your dorms. So my room mate and I worked out a deal. On Friday afternoons if it looked like a storm on the horizon I would go to our room and pack overnight bags for the both of us and he’d grab me a sandwich to eat later. That way, as soon as we got dismissed, before they could lock us down, he and I could bail off the base and – if necessary – sleep in his car for the weekend.

Geoff: The sounds fucking oppressive.

Travis: Sure. Maybe a little bit; but that’s life in the military, especially if you’re still in the training pipeline. But these storms always make me think of those days and stealing moments of freedom.

Geoff: So, as we’re nearing the end of our time here, do you wanna talk about it?

Travis: Yes; but not at first. 

Geoff: No?

Travis:  3am secrets happen naturally,  you can’t force ‘em.

Geoff: Touché.

Travis: I want to know the things that the public probably doesn’t know. The good stuff.

Geoff: I thought this wasn’t time for …

Travis: Your good stuff. Those fun things that you hold onto. Twenty or thirty years ago you weren’t sitting on the porch of a single wide trailer drinking shitty beer.

Geoff: Easy.

Travis: Not that I don’t appreciate the Shiner Bock, I’m just more of an IPA guy.

Geoff: You and every other pretentious douchebag. Beer’s not an identity, it’s a drink.  Yours is free. Enjoy it.

Travis: I appreciate it more than you know.

Geoff: Fun stuff huh? Sure there was a lot. When things took off in the ‘80’s I was on a rocket ship. How old were you in the 80’s?

Travis: Born in 1980.

Geoff:  Summer of 1995. The Budweiser Frogs. If I was a big thing, for two or three years … they were the BIGGEST thing. If you were with The Frogs you didn’t wait in line. Velvet ropes parted. Champagne poured like water. Favors poured out of the sky. Sure there were a lot of crazy times; but the Budweiser frogs..oh man that was a fucking time.

Travis: I honestly don’t know if you’re fucking with me or not.

Geoff: I am being one hundred percent gen-u-ine with you. Do you remember them?

Travis: Sure. Who doesn’t. They were popular as hell until the “wassup” guys came along.

Geoff: Oh man. The Frogs and the Wassup Guys hate the hell out of each other.

Travis: Yeah? 

Geoff: Sure. Think about it; this was a time where being in a Budweiser Super Bowl commercial could make you. You’re a hit year one. That shit plays on every prime time channel for a good six months. Then they bring you back for year two. It’s not quite a nostalgia act yet – it’s like a comedian going out with a new special.

So they’re the hottest act in town. The shiny new toy for the paparazzi set. Not a whole lot of famous, anthropomorphized animals in the celebrity circuit so they sought me out. Kinda like how Robert Downey Jr helped to shepherd all of the new comers into the Marvel world.

We hung out a lot. Vegas, Saint Trope, Ibiza. This is like golden era time. This is post ‘80s but pre-internet. Man, we thought the good times were going to last forever. Then, in 1999…

Travis: The Wassup Guys.

Geoff: The fucking Wassup Guys. You’ve never been famous so …

Travis: I was infamous once.

Geoff: Really?

Travis: A story for another time.

Geoff: Here’s the thing about fame and just attention in general. It’s addicting. Heroin addict levels of addicting. There’s a reason that one hit wonders try to cling to their notoriety as hard as they do. The frogs were absolute great guys to hang out with at the height. Shit man, they weren’t just the life of the party – they were the source of it. But when the Wassup Guys came along they went over a cliff. The good times though? Man – I still dream about those. I’m sure we all do.

Travis: So, I get that because it was fun, wild, the beautiful trappings of fame.

Geoff: Not enough? 

Travis: I’m sure there’s pictures, articles, history of you guys partying together. Hell I bet I could google a page six article about that stuff right now. What’s the thing that you hold on to personally?

Geoff: Oh. 

He takes a deep drink of his Shiner and steps up to the rail of the porch. He stares off into the night and doesn’t turn around to talk to me about this part.

Geoff: Make-a-wish. That was the real good stuff. Before John Cena I had the most Make-A-Wish wishes granted. The kids, and their families who were at their lowest points and you had an opportunity to give them a moment of happiness, of normalcy. You can read the feel good stories on the internet about the random stranger who paid off the entire WalMart layaway debt during Christmas time. How Gary Sinise takes a bunch of kids of fallen veterans to DisneyWorld every year.   Connor’s Cure where the WWE made a kid a star and then made him a cause. That’s the true power of fame and fortune, you have the ability to make people happy.

He takes a long pause and turns around to look at me with tears starting to pool in his eyes.

Geoff: Of everything…I miss having the ability to make people, kids especially, happy. 

Hugging a nine foot tall Giraffe is hard; but I did my best that evening.

_{To be continued in part four}