I was sitting in this mogul’s house. My brother was there, and they were having lunch. It was real nice, going down to the beach and everything. And then we see this woman walking on the beach. It’s Diana Ross. I ran down there and got her.

So now we’re sitting in this room. Diana Ross is sitting with Eddie in the mogul’s section. I’m with some common folk on the other side. We’re talking, having fun. One guy happens to use the f-word. And Diana Ross comes all the way across the room and says,

“Excuse me, I don’t know who you gentlemen are, but I don’t tolerate any profanity in my vicinity.”

Now we’re not at Diana Ross’s house. We’re in another house. We don’t work for her. That’s what we’re all thinking. And one guy goes, “Fuck you, Diana.” She was stunned. Her face, it looked like pieces of it were falling off.

No one was sorry. Because what sticks out in this story for me is: Why are people kissing Diana Ross’s ass? Is she God? No. She sang on some records and did a good job! I give her props. But that doesn’t make you more of an adult than me. That doesn’t give you any more rights than me. Being your fan is optional. If you forget that, because everybody’s been blowing sunshine up your ass, you’re putting yourself in the position to take a fall. That’s the moral of the story. Always stay humble. It’s the only way you can’t get humiliated.