The Craziest Things I've Done to Meet a Celebrity

Let me see... "the craziest thing I've ever done to meet a celebrity"... was that a rhetorical question?

I'm met several different celebrities by employing several "stunts" I've devised in the past, and others just by merely being in the "right place, at the right time".

On the stunt side of the ledger, a few stand out from the rest. Like the time I took note of Gary Busey in some trendy Hollywood bar that I really had no business being in, but was doing some "star gazing".

After going to the bar and buying a draft beer, I approached Mr. Busey until I was sure I was within earshot, although I happened to be behind him. When I reached a strategic position, I loudly yelled, "Hey everybody... this one's on me."

When Mr. Busey turned to see the maker of the claim, I calmly poured the beer over my head... slowly. Primitive, I know... but effective nonetheless. He knows who I am now.

And then there was the "Peter Max" incident. I was on my way back to the University of Arizona, where I was going to school at the time, and I decide to go by the way of Knoxville, Tennessee, where the World's Fair took place that year. 1982, if I'm not mistaken. No, I'm not mistaken. I just looked it up. Knoxville lost a bundle of money on the 1982 World's Fair . 46 million dollars, if you were looking for numbers.

Anyway, Peter Max happened to be presenting an exhibit at the Fair. You know Peter Max is, don't you? He was the guy who was behind 7-Up's "pseudo-psychedelic" ad campaign in the '70's. The art presentation happened to be right up the street from where I was staying. So I walked inside, looking casual with a notebook in my hand.

Mr. Max approached me and asked if he could help find anything in collection he was showing.

I took my pen out and quickly scribbled on a sheet of paper, "Can't speak. Sorry. Would you have a cup of coffee?"

After he went to get me a cup of coffee, he asked me a few more questions.

"Why can't you speak?"

"I bit my tongue off during an epileptic fit," I jotted down hastily. It was something I'd always heard as a kid.

"I'm so sorry," he answered, seemingly sincerely. He then handed me a twenty-dollar bill.

"Well, I have to run..." I quickly scribbled. "Have to meet someone. Take care, Mr. Max," I finished the note.

"Call me Peter."

"Take care, Peter," I said as I walked out of the door smiling.