My autograph is right next to Shaquille O’Neal’s in numerous (at least a dozen) basketball programs. After the 1989 Dapper Dan high school basketball classic in Pittsburgh, my friend and I went onto the floor and were somehow able to enter the locker room with the players. I was in my first year of college, so I was almost the same age as the players. Anyway, they also let in some younger fans to get autographs from the players. I was standing next to Shaq, Bobby Hurley and Jerry Walker as they were signing the programs. Shaq was the last one to sign and then he would just hand me the program to hand back to the kid. For some reason, the first kid thought I was one of the players and wanted me to sign. I’m only 5’ 10", but I guess he couldn’t tell. After that, all the other kids assumed the same thing. So I kept signing them.
I also managed to steal Dick Vitale’s personal notes from the game. He left them on the announcer’s table. They were little notes on each of the kids playing the game, so I’m pretty sure he was done with them.
I’ve gone swimming in Loch Lomond (slippery rocks, long story).
I’ve chased dogs out of my yard while wielding an oosik.
I’ve gotten drunk with the President of Sauza tequila, from a bottle of his private stash, while listening to a very bad surf band on the beach at Todos Santos.
The researchers I was visiting were tracking forest antelope using radio collars. When they had to replace a battery, a couple of their Bantu assistants would locate the animals using an antenna. Then a team of pygmies would race out into the forest to surround it with nets and drive it into them.
I just remembered another one. When I was about 9, a good friend’s dad was a geology professor in Washington state. He got a call one day from a farmer who’d turned up mammoth bones in his wheatfield (not all that rare an occurrence), so my friend I got to go spend a day helping to excavate the mammoth. The bones had been too near the surface, unfortunately, and were very crumbly, but they were also very large.
Another time he took us fossil-hunting and we found a fossilized seahorse. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to keep it.
While in college, I was a bellringer at the Old North Church in Boston, ringing the same bells that Paul Revere had, about two hundred years earlier. It was because he was a bellringer that he was familiar with and had access to the steeple.
My boss and I flew to Houston to bring home a moon rock (encased in a lucite pyramid) for temporary display in the museum where we work. Most mornings I got it out of the safe and put it in the display case, and returned it to the safe at the end of the day.
I’ve held a beating human heart in my hand. (I spelled the surgeon during open massage and the heart re-started while I was holding it.) The person lived.
I also held a human heart, but it was inside the man’s chest (and stopped and on ice). I once felt an unborn baby wink—I was doing a vag exam before mommy went to C-section for face presentation…
What kind of rocks?! I found some amethyst geodes a few months ago by complete weird coincidence (accident on the freeway opened up a bunch; no one was hurt and I scored some geodes!).
I have a few fossils (that I found myself in the field), but they aren’t very special to anyone but me. Trilobytes on one, and I think the other is some kind of plant. Not sure, though.