When I was 8 I met Troy Aikman at UCLA while he was still in college and he wouldn't give me an autograph because he coach said it "wasn't a good idea." I should track him down now that he is running half-marathon because I have him beat by over 10 minutes;-)
Around 1985 Gene Siskel flagged down my taxi cab on N. Michigan Avenue and we headed out to O'Hare.
The fare was $24.50.
Siskel gave me $25 and told me to keep the change.
This one time in the 80's when I was in jr. high I was at Conrad's bike shop in New York and the older lady who owned the place tells me that the guy beside me is a famous musician. I look at the guy, who to me seems like some normal middle class guy in dockers. So I ask him who he is and he says he is Bob Weir from the Grateful Dead. I say "never heard of you". After an agonizingly long second of eye contact he shrugs and then we both keep looking at bicycles.
I met Scott Weiland in a bar in Atlantic City about 5 years ago. He walked up next to where I was seated and ordered a coke without ice. I said hello to him and told him I was attending the Velvet Revolver concert later that night. He said something like "That's awesome. I hope you enjoy the show." He then pointed out two girls that were standing some distance behind him and asked my friend and I to go talk to them so he could leave the bar without them tailing him back to his hotel room.
Saw Kevin Garnett in Las Vegas. My friend asked for his autograph and handed him a napkin. KG was real cool about it. He signs the napkin and we thank him and walk off. I looked at the napkin and it read: F@ck You. -Kevin Garnett.
Since someone mentioned Matt Dillon, I'm reminded of the time my girlfriend was trying to park her car on Columbus Avenue in Manhattan. She could barely fit in the space between two cars, but there was a guy sitting on the back of the car in front of hers. She's a hothead and nutty anyway, and she yelled "will you get the %&^% off the car, please?" The guy paused a minute and then crawled off of it. It was Matt Dillon. She didn't recognize him.
back in my running store days, I met a few famous people.
One day Jeff Koons, the artist, walks in. I love his work and actually feel an affinity to it, but I gaggled and goofed and said something about irony, which is exactly the wrong thing to say about Koons - the great thing about his work is that it is so honest and vulnerable. Opposite of ironic.
Anyway, I realized this, so I put together a list of 5 or so people I wanted to have something intelligent to say to. Should they need a pair of running shoes. I put a little thought into having something intelligent to say.
Not a month later, John Updike, my hero, walks in. I steal the sale from another of the guys, and we have a genuine literary conversation for a half hour. He even asked me for a little location help for the novel he was writing at the time. And it was there, when the book came out.
A couple of weeks ago my wife and I attended one of the free “Concert in the Park” events at the central square downtown. The band that night is one of the region’s most popular at weddings and other parties, and the lead singer spends his days running a local arts commission. They did Michael Jackson covers and Lady Gaga and oldies. Lots of little kids were dancing and the older folks were clapping in rhythm.
During a brief intermission, the singer strolled through the crowd and walked right past us, nodding and saying, “Hi. Thanks for coming.”
Such celebrity encounters are often hoped for and always thrilling, but they are at least half-expected in circumstances like a public concert. More thrilling still are those totally unexpected, candid glimpses of well-known personalities.
A few nights ago we were walking on the uncrowded main street fairly late. Turning a corner, we came face to face with a man who is probably the most popular postal employee in our town. We see him all the time at the post office, of course, sardonically attending to overseas shipping and tricky bulk mailings from behind the counter. But here he was, strolling in shorts and sneakers. There was an immediate recognition on both sides, but that didn’t quite lift the professional barrier between customer and postal steward. He was wearing a Hampton Beach T-shirt, and I pointed to it and said, “Hey. We’ve been there,” and that remark did lighten the tension. He smiled, said his family went there every summer, and immediately seemed more at ease. I imagine it was refreshing for him to come across some of his fandom after hours and not be met with gushy idolatry or be asked insipid questions about postal rates. In less than a minute we went our separate directions, but the memory has (obviously) lingered.
Just today we were in the Price Chopper, debating whether to buy regular or organic bananas. I happened to look up, and over by the deli counter was an unmistakable personage. “It’s him,” I said, motioning with my hand.
“Who?”
“The guy. The one from the recycling center.”
I’d seen him many times of course, but only from the shoulders up. He sits in the little shack where you first drive in; graying ponytail, efficient manner. You tell him how many bags of trash you have, and pay two dollars a bag to dump it. He’s always pleasant to deal with in that circumstance, but here he was, buying cold cuts. He was taller than I anticipated. We watched from afar for a minute or so, but did not approach.
I casually mentioned this to one of the neighbors, and he was suitably impressed.
I used to go to the dog park every Saturday morning. For 3 weeks in a row, I was chatting up a very nice older woman and throwing the ball for her dog. I never asked her name though. We became quite friendly. On the 4th week, I bought my wife, and again, I was hanging out with the same woman. As we were leaving, my wife asked me if I knew who I was talking to. Of course, I had no clue. It was EmmyLou Harris.
My Brother is a Cop in the Seattle area. He arrested Giants picther Tim Lincecum for marijuana posession. Timmy was driving over the speed limit late at night, so he stopped him and apparently his car reeked of weed, so he cited him etc... Apparently Lincecum was a really nice guy, up front about having weed on him, it wasnt a large amount, so I dont think he got in alot of trouble.
recent celebrity encounters wrote:
A couple of weeks ago my wife and I attended one of the free “Concert in the Park” events at the central square downtown. The band that night is one of the region’s most popular at weddings and other parties, and the lead singer spends his days running a local arts commission. They did Michael Jackson covers and Lady Gaga and oldies. Lots of little kids were dancing and the older folks were clapping in rhythm.
During a brief intermission, the singer strolled through the crowd and walked right past us, nodding and saying, “Hi. Thanks for coming.”
Such celebrity encounters are often hoped for and always thrilling, but they are at least half-expected in circumstances like a public concert. More thrilling still are those totally unexpected, candid glimpses of well-known personalities.
A few nights ago we were walking on the uncrowded main street fairly late. Turning a corner, we came face to face with a man who is probably the most popular postal employee in our town. We see him all the time at the post office, of course, sardonically attending to overseas shipping and tricky bulk mailings from behind the counter. But here he was, strolling in shorts and sneakers. There was an immediate recognition on both sides, but that didn’t quite lift the professional barrier between customer and postal steward. He was wearing a Hampton Beach T-shirt, and I pointed to it and said, “Hey. We’ve been there,” and that remark did lighten the tension. He smiled, said his family went there every summer, and immediately seemed more at ease. I imagine it was refreshing for him to come across some of his fandom after hours and not be met with gushy idolatry or be asked insipid questions about postal rates. In less than a minute we went our separate directions, but the memory has (obviously) lingered.
Just today we were in the Price Chopper, debating whether to buy regular or organic bananas. I happened to look up, and over by the deli counter was an unmistakable personage. “It’s him,” I said, motioning with my hand.
“Who?”
“The guy. The one from the recycling center.”
I’d seen him many times of course, but only from the shoulders up. He sits in the little shack where you first drive in; graying ponytail, efficient manner. You tell him how many bags of trash you have, and pay two dollars a bag to dump it. He’s always pleasant to deal with in that circumstance, but here he was, buying cold cuts. He was taller than I anticipated. We watched from afar for a minute or so, but did not approach.
I casually mentioned this to one of the neighbors, and he was suitably impressed.
Had me grinning, chief. Not bad.
Lorenzo the Magnificent wrote:
[quote]recent celebrity encounters wrote:
Had me grinning, chief. Not bad.
Thanks. I actually wrote that last summer but didn't have an outlet for it. When I saw this thread, I figured I finally had a place to share it.
Trun wrote:
When I was a little kid, I was in D.C. with my family on vacation and it was the week of the old timers baseball all star game. All the players were staying at the hotel we were staying at. So I'm running around getting autographs from all the players - Hank Aaron, Johny Bench, and oh yes . . . Joe Dimaggio. Awesome. So Joe D. walks from the check-in desk to the elevator and gets mobbed. All these professional autograph seekers (grown men) are swarming him and I'm getting bounced around a bit. I'm with my mom and she get ticked off and says, "why don't you give the kid a chance". It was directed toward the grown men autograph seekers, but I think Joe D. thought she was saying it to him and looks up right at her and gives her the most annoyed look in the world. And then . . . he takes my notebook signs his autograph and says, "here you go, kid", and turns, and doesn't sign another autograph, and gets on the elevator. Never forget that day - crazy. Only a Mom could do that.
I ran into DiMaggio a few times in restaurants in NY and those who'd seen him more often than I said his reputation wasn't too great in terms of interacting with anyone not within his circle.
At the running store I used to work at in St. Paul one of our regular customers was a marathon guy who was voted 'most athletic' in his high school senior class. In his class was Deion Sanders.
Let Timmy Smoke! Doesn't surprise me - Tim always seems like a pretty good natured, straight shooting guy.
drinker wrote:
bumped into Joe Montana once
I shared the pre-op room (he, hidden behind curtains), and then post-op recovery room with Joe Montana after surgery. He was getting pins taken out of his hand. I had a problem with my elbow. We had the same surgeon.
Afterwards, all the nurses were hovering over him while I was in a morphine haze.
We had no interaction at all.
When we were kids, my brother and I saw OJ Simpson at a UCLA-USC track meet. He was surrounded by many very large people. My brother tried to get his autograph. The large people shooed him away.
Bob Seagren, former WR in the pole vaulter and Olympic gold medalist, gave us his autograph though.
JimmyTheGreek wrote:
Saw Kevin Garnett in Las Vegas. My friend asked for his autograph and handed him a napkin. KG was real cool about it. He signs the napkin and we thank him and walk off. I looked at the napkin and it read: F@ck You. -Kevin Garnett.
reminds me of a couple years ago where some guys on our xc team ran into kg walking around the local pond with his wife. They said he was a nice guy.
The day before the NYCM in the early 80's, the NYRRC had a gathering to show a film and give some sort of lifetime achievement award out. It was given to Emil Zatopek.
I sat down in the makeshift film room and was kind of looking around when a gentleman came in from the back and sat down next to me. I looked up and it was Zatopek. I was stunned to be sitting next to a guy who was basically a god to me.
I stammered and stuttered something like "You're too old for me to have seen you run but I'm a great fan" feeling like a complete idiot after saying it. He smiled and said hello and it was nice to meet me and shook my hand. I think it was his first time out of his homeland in a long time and he had to run into a putz like me.
Great memory meeting him and unless you're a fan of distance running or the Olympics it's hard to explain the level of my excitement in meeting him.
JCR2000 wrote:
This is a serious question. Why do grown men, who are not collectors, get autographs? I understand pictures, but an autograph on a napkin or piece of paper I don't.
Never understood it myself. I assume it's a point of proof.
gorney wrote:
Around 1985 Gene Siskel flagged down my taxi cab on N. Michigan Avenue and we headed out to O'Hare.
The fare was $24.50.
Siskel gave me $25 and told me to keep the change.
That's just awesome. LOL!