I knew some people who worked there.
I have not gotten close to many celebrities at all. I met Neil Armstrong when he visited Purdue. I was introduced to him, and I couldn’t think of anything to ask that he hadn’t already been asked, so the two of us just stood there.
I had a class with John Hughes in high school, but we never interacted.
That’s about it.
It seems I almost bumped into Bruce Willis when I lived in London back in the mid-90s.
I was walking from Piccadilly Circus to Leicester Square one night and, for some reason, I was extremely pissed off. If you’ve seen the video of The Verve’s Bitter Sweet Symphony (https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=bitter+sweet+symphony+the+verve), it gives you an impression of my attitude that night: if you guys don’t move, I’m gonna push you out of my way.
Those who’ve been to London know that these places are always crowded at night so imagine my surprise when I suddenly found myself in the middle of a completely empty spot with dozens of people massed in circle around it. I paused for half a second and then resumed my angry walk. And that’s when I spotted a silhouette on my right. Given our respective positions and trajectories, we were about to bump into each other if one of us didn’t stop. Since I was in such a bad mood, it wasn’t going to be me. The man stopped, I quickly reached the other side of the circle and, right when the crowd closed back on me, I heard a woman scream: “It’s Bruce Willis!”. That was enough to make me forget my anger and turn around but by that time it was already too late. My view was blocked by the crowd.
So, for the rest of my life I’ll remember that night when I almost bumped into Bruce Willis. As far as he is concerned, he was aware of my existence for as long as it takes to think “Who’s that asshole?”.
I had a conversation with (at the time) Spanish Prime Minister José María Aznar during a reception in an embassy. I was struck by (1) how tremendously short he was, (2) his magnificent bastardry and (3) the way he deflected my rather pointed questions about his policies and avoided answering anything while at the same time speaking genially and sounding as if he was actually dealing with what I was saying.
I completely abhorred him and was very much against him, politically speaking, but he left me in awe of his political savvy and his eel-like slipperiness.
In another diplomatic reception I got to meet and greet the at the time Crown Prince (now king) Philip of Spain.
I have chatted with Terry Pratchett, to whom at the time I made a gift of an intricately decorated hourglass (with gold filigree no less!) from Toledo. Got some books signed as well, which I treasure like you have no idea.
I also had a chance encounter with Alexander Godunov at the Frankfurt Airport during transit; I actually asked him for the time. I didn’t recognize him at that moment, although I thought that his face was familiar… Later on I found out who he was. This encounter took place roughly a month or so before he died.
Elizabeth Taylor.
Circa 1980ish I was working for a company that wanted to help in John Warner’s (Mr Elizabeth Taylor) election fundraising. We were offered the opportunity to meet Ms Taylor! A signup sheet was posted to work (without pay) the event. I spoke out against working for free and my coworkers heeded my rallying cry.
The event didn’t happen. The boss was embarrassed/shocked/angry.
In Baghdad I was assigned to work a security post for the president’s visit. George Bush drove past be by a few feet on his way to getting a shoe thrown at him.
I met Buzz Aldrin at a book signing.
Met Stevie Ray Vaughn before one of his shows.
The Dalai Lama, so I got that going for me.
I did not give in to temptation and say Hello Dalai!
Met Lou Ferrigno in a small dive bar (apparently he was friends with the owner).
A friend is good friends with Charles Thompson. We got to hang out with him for a couple of hours after a show.
Hung out with a lot of musicians when I did college radio, some more famous than others. P-Funk, Killing Joke, Pere Ubu, Thrill Kill Kult, Mojo Nixon, got really, really drunk with Pop Will Eat Itself. Jack White when he was still a drummer, and Meg White when she worked in a restaurant.
Might as well close the thread; we have the winner.
My first training in karate was at a church banquet hall. I hadn’t had much exposure to martial arts back then, so I figured Jeff Smith’s Judo was no better or worse than anybody else’s martial arts. I barely knew that the art was called Chuck Norris’ style of karate and just did it because it was free. Members of our school were invited to come up to Los Angeles one weekend to watch the belt testing session – the owner was expected to show up. We drove through an astoundingly smoggy town up to a tiny storefront in a strip mall, where people were gathering and standing around. The guy who drove pointed to a man and said, “That’s Aaron, he does the stunts for his brother, Chuck.”
I asked, “There’s stunts in karate?”
Later, the guy who drove pointed to another, shorter, guy and told me, “That one’s Chuck.”
There was a cluster of people standing around both Chuck and Aaron. I wandered around the cluster to get a better look and could almost physically feel the egotism radiating from Chuck. When I saw his face I went back to the guy who drove and said, “They should trade roles. Aaron is taller and better looking.”
[COLOR=Black]I was in charge of concessions at a movie theater in San Diego.
[/COLOR]
We had the premier of Educating Rita and both Michael Caine and Julie Walters showed up (all the way from England!) to do some promotional work before the showing. I glanced out at the cameras and people, and thought*, “That doesn’t look like the woman in The Sound of Music!” and ignored the rest.
There was a special Saturday morning showing of Pale Rider because the boys who played the slow-witted sons of Spider Conway rented out the theater to show off their first big screen role for a bunch of friends and their families . I was not impressed and had no idea which guys they were. I didn’t actually see their scenes until years later when I rented the movie on VHS.
We also had a special premier of The Dresser and Tom Courtenay showed up and did some on-camera introductions. Again I had no idea who he was so I ignored the mayhem and just did my job.
We had one of our annual SoCal Showdowns in NFL football when the Rams came to play the Chargers. For some reason the Rams came to town a day early and their manager called my boss and arranged to have an exclusive showing of some movie for the team. I don’t follow sports, so I wouldn’t have recognized them except that they were a bunch of huge guys and the theater manager told us who they were just as they arrived. He personally opened the doors to let them in early for the show and they started shouting orders for food and drinks at me and my crew. I managed to shout and get everyone to be quiet and a guy in a suit asked, “Can’t you guys coordinate these orders? What’s the problem?”
“The problem,” I answered, “Is that someone was brilliant enough to buy out 200 seats for 50 football players but wasn’t smart enough to organize their food and drink orders in advance – or give us time to prepare for it ourselves.”
“You know who you’re talking to?” he shot back.
“That’s the Rams’ offensive coordinator.” one of my crew told me before I could shake my head.
“Well he’s being pretty offensive.” I growled as the theater manager walked up, “But not very coordinated.”
“Just give 'em what they want, Grestarian.” my manager told me, “I’ll deal with it later.”
“No, he’s right.” the man in the suit admitted and pulled out a wad of bills and peeled off a dozen to hand to my manager, “This should cover it.”
When the team was seated and watching their movie, my manager came to me and asked, “Do you know what you did?”
“I do now.” I nodded and pointed to the coworker who had recognized the coach. I was still irritated, though, and noted, “And you got a dozen twenties for about twice that amount of food.”
“Those weren’t twenties, Grestarian.” my manager told me. He pulled out the wad he had been given, peeled a bill off, and tucked it inside my vest pocket while advising me, “Keep your mouth shut.” I figured he was telling me to quit being a discourteous complainer and simply nodded and went back to work. The [COLOR=Navy][COLOR=Navy]team exited through a rear door and [/COLOR][COLOR=Navy]the [/COLOR]rest of the night was astoundingly busy [/COLOR]so I didn’t have a chance to think about them again. When I got home that night and found the bill in my vest pocket I discovered it was a Franklin (rather than a Hamilton as I had assumed) and realized my boss was telling me not to say anything about the huge windfall the Rams had given us.
Some guy bought tickets when I was working the box-office. Back then 6 tickets only cost $26 and the guy handed me a $100 bill. Standard policy for the company (and the shopping mall) was to write the buyer’s license number at the top of the bill. So I asked for ID and read the name and it sounded vaguely familiar. “Stephen Bishop?” I made idle chatter while scribbling down his numbers, “THE Stephen Bishop?” and glanced at the address and asked, “You really live in San Diego?”
“I gotta live somewhere.” He shrugged.
“Good point.” I shrugged and handed him his tickets and change. I saw his name again later, at the bottom of a movie poster, and realized why I recognized the name.
I took my skills as manager of concessions to the university I was attending. My job managing their concessions included handling food & drink sales for the plays, concerts, and seminars that used our stages and amphitheater, plus special assignments for the performers. At the time, for some reason, I didn’t consider those extra tasks to be privileges.
There was a concert at 3PM (!?) for a teeny-bopper performer named Tiffany. I helped set up, then went off to do inventory, then came back a couple hours later to help break things down. As I came back, I saw a woman who looked about 23 years old, wearing pigtails and dressed in a mini-skirt and v-neck sweater that looked like a poorly mismatched cheerleader outfit. She was skipping along in front of the concession stands with a throng of junior-high school kids following her, and paying more attention to the kids than anything else. Somehow she managed to head right toward me and stopped short. She looked surprised at my presence and beamed at me with a fake smile, then asked, “Do you want an autograph, too?”
I looked at her ridiculously under-aged outfit, glanced at the children surrounding her, and scowled. As I turned away, I muttered a flat, “No.”
She pouted like I had punched her in the braces or shot her with a rubber band. It actually surprised me that I didn’t get chased by a throng of vengeful teeny-boppers. A couple weeks later, she was in the news. Apparently she had “run away” from her tour and was demanding to be emancipated (I guess she was only 17) and to have full control of her finances. She hadn’t filled 1/3rd of the amphitheater, so I wondered how much she expected to control.
A few weeks later we had a more adult-oriented concert: Some flute player and a band – I figured it was jazz. Since I got the manager job by offering to do repairs and maintenance as well, I was at the amphitheater early, trying to figure out why the wiring for the lights above a concession stand was falling down. Apparently a hook had rusted through but since it was a Saturday the campus maintenance office was closed so I couldn’t visit them for a spare. But there were a couple guys down in the stands, pointing to the sound mixer’s table and the stage, so I went down to talk to them.
I stood behind them while one man said, “I’d really love to meet the genius who put an amphitheater behind a library!”
“Great idea!” I chimed in, “The same stuff that’s locking silence inside is bouncing sound off the outside.”
“Oh, hello.” The guy turned to me and said, “Ian Anderson, at your service.” and he stuck out his hand and asked, “Have you come for an autograph?”
“I-” I took and shook his offered hand, “I would never presume, sir.”
“Oh.” the man looked surprised, “Well, what have you then?”
“Uh,” I stumbled while wondering where his accent and phrasing had originated, “I was just wondering if one of you guys might have some extra gaffer’s tape.”
“Gaffer’s tape?” the main guy asked and seemed incredulous for some reason. I pointed to the roll that the other guy had hanging off his wrist and he said, “Oh. Well, uh, Frank give me your roll, there.” Frank handed his roll to Ian and Ian presented it to me, saying, “There you are! Complements of Ian Anderson.”
“Thank you very much!” I nodded, half-bowed, and shook the man’s hand again. Then I went back up to the concession stand to tape up the stray lighting cable.
“What did you say to them?” my coworker asked as I approached the stand.
“Nothing,” I told him, “I just asked for some gaffer’s tape.”
“Do you know who that is?” my coworker sounded incredulous and I couldn’t understand why everyone seemed surprised that afternoon.
“Yeah, Ian something.”
“Ian Anderson.”
“Yeah, Anderson, that’s it.”
“Yeah, that’s Jethro Tull.”
“Oh, okay.” I shrugged and continued fixing things up. Later the next week I wondered about that name just before a class so I asked someone I figured would be knowledgeable. My history professor said, “I think Jethro Tull is credited with inventing the horse-drawn plough.”
“Oh.” I frowned and quietly took my seat.
I had the unenviable task of delivering a chest full of fresh ice@ to a tour bus after a show. Me and my coworker (same guy as above) filled an ice chest from the cafeteria kitchen and loaded it on a pushman# cart and hauled it back to the amphitheater. When we got there, we had to pound on the door for a while until someone turned down some blasting jazz and opened up. Some lackey told us to put the chest at the top of the stairs (floor of the bus) next to the stick shift, so we did. Then some skinny blond or white-haired guy stood up in the middle of the bus while he was peeling off a shirt and said, “Thank you much, lads! Want a T-shirt?” and he threw his T-shirt at us. It went sailing over our heads, splatted against the front windshield, and then slowly peeled off until it dropped to the floor next to the ice chest. The air reeked of acidic sweat that brought tears to my eyes and it was practically steaming off the T-shirt, so I looked at the guy and reprised my answer to Tiffany, muttering a flat, “No.”
As we drove the pushman away, my coworker elbowed me and said, “Do you know who you just dissed? That was Graham Nash!”
“If you want that T-shirt,” I offered while stopping the cart, “I’ll wait while you go back and get it.”
“No. That’s okay.”
The University was in the news because the Dean of Arts & Letters had responded to statewide budget problems by arbitrarily cutting professors in some departments% but not others. My uncle was in town for a convention and let me use his badge to attend a lecture by Immanuel Wallerstein, whose World Systems theories I was getting into. I met him after his presentation and started to discuss his theories with him. At one point he noted, “You’re a bright guy! What school are you attending?”
“I’m focusing on Collective Behavior at {Controversial College}.” I told him proudly.
“Oh,” he responded, “You mean with Dean [dunce]?”
“Uh…” I could only look down in embarrassment about our situation being notorious all the way to the opposite coast “…well, yeah.”
Dr. Wallerstein turned to someone next to him (an assistant, I suspect) and asked, “What time were they planning to serve dinner?” and began discussing the menu with him. I suddenly stopped existing; karma hurts.
My wife and I went out for a romantic dinner at a local restaurant. There was a huge group at a cluster of tables in the middle of their outdoor seating area and I couldn’t help staring at a gorgeous blonde at the head of the table. It was May and it looked like she was celebrating her college graduation with family and friends. After a while my wife got annoyed and asked why I kept looking over at the other table so, naturally, I lied and pointed to a balding-but-long-haired guy in a dark suit and said, “I could swear I’ve seen that guy somewhere before. He’s somebody famous.”
Then a waiter came out and talked briefly with the girl and her guest. The guy got up and, to my surprise, he stood next to the waiter and the girl took their picture. I couldn’t understand why she was taking – rather than posing for – pictures at her own special occasion. A few minutes later, another waiter came out and the scene repeated – and I noticed both people were making little devil-horn gestures from a couple decades ago. It suddenly dawned on me that the short guy in the waiters’ pictures was Ronnie James Dio, and I noted that to my wife.
I kept glancing over at the hot blonde and my wife eventually got annoyed and said, “Why don’t you go ask him for a picture.”
“I can’t do that.” I declined.
“Why not?” she countered, “All the waiters are doing it.”
“Yeah, but he’s really here for his niece’s – or daughter’s, or…that kid’s – celebration dinner. We should really just let him eat in peace.”
“Nobody else is.” my wife argued again.
“Yeah, but if he’s really local,” I deferred, “then he’ll be back and I’ll ask him some other time.” And I resolved to stop staring over there and we finished our meal and left.
Two weeks later he was in the news. He had just lost his bout with stomach cancer.
Okay, so a good one, and intentionally good:
When the San Diego Comic Convention was a tiny little event using two words for the name and had just graduated from a tiny hotel room to Golden Hall on B Street, I read in the newspaper that Raymond E. Feist (Riftwar and some others) was planning to attend. So I made a point of trying to get there and only managed to slip in a back door about an hour before the event closed+. I was browsing some books around a vendor’s booth and trying to suppress my irritation about Downtown San Diego’s horrible parking situation when my girlfriend said, “Behind you.”
So I turned around and Mr. Feist was stopping by the booth among a group of a half-dozen friends. I was a bit shocked, so I said, “Oh! Mr. Feist!”
Mr. Feist looked at me, opened his eyes wide, and turned around, “Really? Where?!”
Everyone laughed and that seemed to break the ice. Then he turned around and extended a hand, “Call me Ray.”
“I’m so pleased to meet you…” I told him as I shook his hand, and I realized I sounded like a pathetic fan-boy. Still, I honestly told him, “…because I’ve wanted to ask you a few questions about your antagonists in the Riftwar series.”
“Oh.” he genuinely sounded interested in discussing something beyond the routine questions, “Well, ask away.”
We spent about a half-hour talking about the art and craft of fantasy writing and then he said he had to get ready for the costume ball. By that time he seemed like such a friend that asking him to autograph my copy of Magician seemed like throwing him back atop a pedestal, so I skipped it.
–G!
*Yeah, I know: Wrong Julie, you idiot!
@It absolutely had to be fresh, for some reason.
#It was an electric utility vehicle made by Cushman with such a weak motor that, when fully loaded it would move slower than a walk when the accelerator pedal pressed to the floor. Someone remarked, “Wow! It goes faster if you push, man!” and so it got its nickname.
%Really! We asked what his criteria was and he said he had just picked names off a list – avoiding the people he had just hired because he didn’t want to appear to have made a mistake in those hiring decisions. To admit such a mistake would be to lose face…
+I had fully intended to buy a day-pass, but the box office was closed by the time I arrived. We had just happened to find a door that a departing vendor had left ajar (probably to carry boxes of unsold merchandise out to a truck or something).
Forgot to add Larry Hagman to my list–he was one of the many celebrities who lived in my home town, and he turned up at the Fourth of July picnic one year on his Harley. The spouse and I complimented him on his bike but otherwise left him alone (it’s not at all uncommon to run into various celebs at the local market–my mom did it all the time (she specifically mentioned June Allyson, Larry Hagman, and Michael Caine), though I only saw a couple during the time I lived there).
I was talking to Darryl Dawkins last week; he’s 7’ tall. (He gave me his card as we’re trying to get him to come to a charity event; I need to give him another call.)
Saw my now-governor-elect yesterday morning in the train station; could have walked a few feet to shake his hand but I avoid those types like the plague.
Was part of a race team, where one of the other participants was a then-current governor.
Most of the elite pro cyclists in the US.
Specialized crew for a Ben Stiller movie; didn’t make the scene where he was doing close-ups of our stuff (I chose the wrong side) but I am in another one.
Mayor Bloomberg regularly showed up to one of our events in his role as mayor but I used to work at a company that used his data feeds, so it was cool to see him as the head of the company that was our vendor. I assume DiBlasio will come too.
All manner of celebrities at events I’ve been working at; usually I see the crowd gawking, ask someone next to me, “Who’s that” & then back to what I was doing as I’m not a celebrity hound.
Early 90s, leaving the combination gym / physical therapy center in Manhattan. Walking up the stairs to street level, an older fellow walked past me down the stairs into the facility. As I got to the street door, I asked the fellow just in front of me “was that Ed Koch?” and he said yep, it was.
When Mark Warner was first running for Virginia senator, he happened to be shaking hands at our polling place as I arrived.
A local newscaster has a daughter the same age as Moon Unit (and in the same school), and we were at their house for a birthday party once about 10 years ago. Nobody that anyone but locals would know, though.
Neil Armstrong. Shook his hand - I’m sure he remembers me. I was the one gabbling ‘How are bargle derpl mfghherple’ at 100mph.
That reminds me that I was a few feet from Homesick James. I also shared a table with Johnny Shines. We actually had a pretty long conversation.
Let’s see
Mel Blanc 
James Burke (Connections and The Day the Universe Changed)
Dick Cheney :mad:
Alan Simpson
Fred Meijer (founder of the Meijer’s stores) at an anniversary party for my grand parents. My mother used to babysit for the family when she was young.
And I’ve been at conference tables with at least 4 governors.
I even have a picture of my daughter on a sitting governor’s lap. (That is the governor was not only sitting but also currently in office.)
Bill Clinton… shook hands on his visit to the Great New York State Fair some years back post presidency (I wanna say as part of Hilary’s election campaign for New York)
Several New York Yankees during autograph signings (Graig Nettles, Sparky Lyle, Mike Torrez, etc.)
Robert Schimmel (at an after show meet and greet shortly before he passed away)
Ken Shamrock (MMA fighter and wreslter) sat next to him on a flight
Johnny Hickman (lead guitarist of Cracker), Roger Cllyne and PH Naffah (lead singer and drummer for The Refreshments) at a rock festival in Mexico
P-man ! My man! When & where??? Would love to know.
The Biggest Celebrity? Michael Moore. He weighs nearly 350 lbs.
Anyway, I’m pretty sure it was him. It was at a computer convention in Chicago. He’s pretty hard to miss. I was about ten ft away in a large lobby area by the conference rooms in the hotel.
On the notorious side, I guess I can add that I was once involved in a lengthy trial that was across the hall from Phil Spector’s murder trial at LA Superior Court. I passed by him (and his hair) multiple times over the few weeks I was there.
Also forgot Ho Chi Minh. We filed past his embalmed body in Hanoi.
For that matter, does George Washington count? And Martha? We visited their tomb at Mount Vernon. And then there’s JFK at Arlington National Cemetery. And Charles Lindbergh’s grave on Maui.
Political:
The full set of Clintons - Bill, Hillary and Chelsea. Spent a little bit chatting with the then-Senator.
G.W. Bush
Joe Biden
Mitt and Ann Romney
Howard Dean
Mike Dukakis
(only counting Prez, former Prez, or candidate)
Sports/entertainment:
Pete Rose (at a casino, appropriately enough)
Teller (as in Penn & … )
Serious stuff:
Jim (Apollo 8 and 13) Lovell