Many years ago I was working in advertising on the Crisco account. Crisco had just signed up to sponsor a NASCAR team. Lots of grease jokes ensued. Team Crisco's driver was Buddy Baker, a well-liked veteran driver even back then. Our ad group flew down to Atlanta for two days to meet the team and to attend the Atlanta 500. Got the royal treatment. On race day we toured the pit area, talked to the crew and walked among the other cars already on the tarmac. Got Crisco Racing jackets, access to the skybox room with great food and drink. Was stopped several times by knowing fans who were "Buddy" fans and asked if I was part of the team. Was in the skybox munching away when in walks Gene Hackman, just to say "hello boys." But the best part was going down to the first row in the stands and feeling those cars screaming by you like a bunch of angry hornets. You could really feel the awesome power. And Buddy Baker would always pump his fist through the opening as he drove by the grand stand. I'll never forget the good times in Atlanta.
Later that week, back in Noo Yawk City, as I'm walking out of the office and onto Madison Avenue. I turn to my friend to say, "Hey, isn't that Arnold Schwarzenegger?" Now, I should tell you that this was right after Terminator I had been released. Sure enough, he hears me, and turns his head staring right into my brain. He looked great, just like in Terminator. He was with Maria Shriver and, I guess, they were simply window shopping like any other person in NYC. Everyone else on the street simply walked by them. But, I was a noob and had to open my big mouth.
It was also during my brief advertising career that I worked with Jim D’Antoni, the son of the man who produced “The French Connection”, Phil D'Antoni. One weekend, at one of Jim’s parties, he showed me the Oscar statue his dad had won so many years ago for "Best Producer." The movie also won “Best Picture” that year (1971). Jim pointed out a small chip in the statues head. The housekeeper had accidentally dropped the statue and caused a gash on Oscar’s head. Apparently, you do not get a new Oscar – the Academy simply repairs Oscar. At least in those days. At that point, his dad walks in and starts talking about how Jim, as a young boy, accidentally broke the nose of the star of “The French Connection”, Roy Scheider, while playing basketball at their house during a break from filming the movie. So, that’s how Roy Scheider ended up with a crooked nose. I never found out what happened to the poor housekeeper that damaged the Oscar.
More recently, I bumped into Don Henley (Eagles) at one of the local bar/restaurants in my home town. Had a pony tail at that time and wore a long black leather coat. Looked great, too. He was there with his wife and kids and they were picking at the chicken wings from the happy hour buffet. My friend spotted them first and said to him, "Do you know you look a lot like Don Henley?". So, Don, says, "Yes, I get that a lot." My friend then says, "Well, are you?" Don says (in a nice way), "I don't have to answer that." His wife lowered her gaze and smiled to herself. My friend became embarrassed and apologized. The bartender later showed us Mr. Henley's credit card which was at the bar along with everyone else's that had an open tab running that night.
Got more, but have to get back to my mundane life ......
ERacer
Edit:
A short distance from my college there is, or was, a bar called The Shaboo Inn. I was a Freshman at the time and my room mate was into all kinds of music, especially new artists. He urged me and a few others to go see a new group playing at "the Shaboo." We had nothing better to do so we went along. The band consisted of only three guys; lead and bass guitar and drummer - and they were pretty good. One of their songs was especially good, and stuck with me. Later, we went up to talk to them and they seemed nice enough, but eager to leave. Six months later, that group released their first album and that very same song became a hit single. Their hit? "Roxanne" and the band - The Police. True.
Years later, at the infamous club CBGB's in NYC, my friends and I were watching some band play. The place was packed and it was hard to see the band. So we found a spot near one of the pillars which gave us more room. There was only one other person leaning up against this pillar - a strange looking leather freak with piercings and platinum blond spiked hair guzzling his bottled beer. We started talking to him and after awhile the band stopped playing to introduce a great friend of theirs to which our blond peacock pillar guy jumped up on stage and started rocking out with the band ....... Billy Idol.
Met with the King of Sweden, Carl XVI Gustaf and his wife Queen Silvia at a dinner reception for his majesty in NYC at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel. I was invited as a member of the Swedish-American Chamber of Commerce (I am Swedish). In my youth, in Sweden, I had the pleasure of playing golf with Prince Bertil, the uncle of King Gustaf, at the golf club in my hometown of Halmstad, Sweden.
Back in the good 'ol USA, in my newly adopted hometown of New Canaan, CT, David Letterman would always be walking around town with an old baseball cap pulled way down. But his smile is unmistakable and we would always catch up to him to ask him about the show - my mother even stood in line with him at some store and said to him. "Dave, you were really good last night." And Letterman says to my mom, "What were you doing up so late?" To which my mother replied, "Oh, David, I really shouldn't tell you what I was doing." Mom!!! That was about 20 years ago, though.
I attended New Canaan High School (Connecticut). Our clique numbered about 20 guys and gals. We are still close. One of the girls in our group became quite famous. She has published several best-sellers, appeared in TV and film. Whenever we do see her, which has become less frequently, she is still simply Ann to us. To everyone else she is Ann Coulter.
Three years ago, I was working on the trading floor at UBS Investment Bank in Stamford, CT. That building has the distinction of having the largest trading floor in the world - the area is about the size of two football fields (US)
UBS had just underwritten a financing deal for the World Wrestling Entertainment (WWE) also based out of Stamford. It was around mid-afternoon and a typical crazy day on the floor when suddenly Bon Jovi music started blaring out onto the floor. Everyone but I seemed to know what was about to happen. The entire floor - about 1,200 people put down their phones, stood up and started yelling and applauding. Onto the floor, making their way down the center isle, like royalty, walks Vince McMahon, his daughter (sweet) and four wrestlers. Vince grabs a wireless mic and growls "I want to buy some stocks!", and the place goes even wilder and the music louder. The wrestlers start shooting air cannons filled with WWE T-shirts and caps in every direction. I've never seen so many professionals scrambling for a WWE souvenir in my life! One of the girls next to me came back with a cap autographed by three of the wrestlers. She's a big fan she tells me, breathlessly, and then another trader approached her and offered $100 for the cap. She declined. Anyway, I shook hands with the massive wrestlers and got some pics of me and Vince but not his daughter
There have been other famous people I have met and spoken with, some with great stories:
Otis Anderson (former running back, NFL NY Giants - brought his homemade brownies with him to our office and made sure we all had a square)
Candice Bergen (incredibly, naturally beautiful lady)
Larry Hagman (during his 'Dallas' days; during my advertising days - we talked about poker skills and bluffing. He was shooting a BVD underwear commercial)
Does Hilary Duff count? She is just so perky.
Made friends with two of the funniest guys at summer camp when I was a kid (Camp Sparreviken, Sweden) and, because of my ignorance, they were not famous to me but they were nephews of the Shah of Iran. The best camp ever and the best days of my life. Wow, heavy reflection time.
You know, it matters not how famous you are, what matters is how great you are. That camp was the greates for me, and the people there were the greatest, ever.
I'm done ......... think I'll do a few dozen laps around la Sarthe and lose myself.
👍
I forgot about that
👍
