Yesterday at work, I checked out two gentlemen. As I was doing so, I got that "feeling" that he - the guy who bought some clothes - was "someone". I checked his ID - an automatic response when folks pay with credit cards - and made an inane comment when I saw what city in CA he lived, "Hey, I have a cousin who lives in ------." He responded with a joking, "No WAY!" . . . as one might if you're traveling overseas and they find out you're American, only to ask, "Hey, my friend Bob lives in Minneapolis - do you know him?!" We bantered back and forth about that just a tiny bit . . . but after he left, I pulled out his credit card receipt to check.
Yep, it was Chris Hillman. Of The Byrds!
If I spy him again, I'll apologize for not recognizing him. But then, maybe it's NICE to not be recognized all the time? If I were him, I know *I* would think so!
Sometimes that happens once in a lifetime and you never forget.They had a Jerry Lewis marathon back home when I was little and I met James Brolin GOSH he was soooo tall and good looking.I won't forget that.Lucky us!
ReplyDeleteAnd then, sometimes you make an ass out of yourself - like the day I passed Sly Stallone (and three very tall people - he is short and much more good looking in person) on the street in NYC. He said, "Hey there." I said, "Whatever," annoyed that some overly tanned guy was chatting me up. I didn't realize it was the Slyster until three blocks further down the street. Doh.
ReplyDeleteByrds, schmyrds, Chris Hillman of McGuinn, Clark and Hillman!!!!!
ReplyDelete