In the mid 80s, when I was in my late teens, I was on the midnight flight from SF to LA, when the flight attendant whispered to me that Sting was sitting in the front of the plane. A few passengers got his autograph-- I was too cool to show my excitement.

But when we deplaned, and I met up with my waiting Mom, I let down my guard and excitedly whispered to her: "Sting! Sting, Mom! The Police! The Police!" just as uniformed airport guards escorted him by.

She looked confused, the words Sting and The Police having completely different meanings to our generations.

"I wonder what he could have done?" she asked.

In 1996, I was the production secretary for the HBO miniseries From the Earth to the Moon. As you may or may not know, Tom Hanks was the executive producer and spent some of his time in our office in Orlando. One day, as I was sitting at my desk, Tom and one of the writers, Graham Yost came out of Tom's office having an "argument." Tom was teasing Graham about writing the script for the movie Operation Dumbo Drop.
Tom says,"So, let me get this straight. You go into the office and say, 'I have this great idea for a movie. We take this elephant, see, and drop it from a plane. It'll be a hit!'" To which, Graham replies, "Tom, I have two words for you. Bachelor. Party."
The teasing immediately stopped as Tom proclaimed the conversation "Now over!"

I was sitting in LAX waiting for a flight from LA to SF the Sunday after Thanksgiving, 1995, when I started noticing a LOT of people looking my direction.

Being self-conscious, I did the self-check routine...no spots on my shirt, no food on my face, zipper was closed... So I tried to ignore it.

Then I started noticing that the lookers were generally women. Make that, younger women. I couldn't figure it out until I started to notice that they weren't looking at me at all...but at the person seated *right* next to me. The airport was packed so I didn't even look up when - fifteen minutes earlier - some stranger sat down in the very next seat.

So, I looked at the guy next to me, to see if HE noticed the staring. Of course, I had no concept that this person would not only have noticed the staring, but that he would be accustomed to it.

Without saying anything, I made eye contact, and he responded with a sort of shrug, like, "What am I supposed to do?" And he went back to reading his paper. Beyond the simple details of the story, the thing I remember most was thinking, at the time, that I had NEVER seen a human being - in person - whose skin and hair were so perfectly flawless. Perfect skin, perfect smile, perfectly flopped hair...looked like he had just stepped of some sort of make-up set.

It was Hugh Grant.

L.

I worked in the movie biz for several years. When I worked on Mousehunt, Christopher Walken had a "paid friend" show up one day. She was followed by a request/demand for "a big bottle of extra virgin olive oil". His trailer was not stocked with any food. We wrapped at one location and were needing to move base camp to another. Chris and his "friend" were to busy to be bothered and instructed us to hook up to his trailer and transport it to the next location with them still inside.

Not really a brush - but it is one of my oddest memories from working in the biz.

In the mid-70's I was in Burlington VT at UVM -- Bob Dylan and the Rolling Thunder Review came to town to perform. He was staying at the Shelburne Inn, where my girlfriend worked the front desk. I was picking her up after her shift the day he checked in, and I was in the lobby when he came through. My girlfriend asked him for his autograph and he rudely rebuffed her, saying "what do I look like, some sort of pop star?!" I told him "I don't care who the fuck you are, you're not gonna talk to a lady like that." He grumbled and shuffled off.

The next morning when she showed up for work, there was an envelope for her. Inside was a handwritten apology from Dylan and two tickets to the show. The note had a post script: "I like a man who sticks up for his lady."

[this was during a time when Dylan was quite unconfortable with what he considered unwelcomed fame and celebrity. He didn't want to be a star, an icon, a "voice of a generation," he just wanted to be a poet. All well chronicled in his autopbiography, Chronicles I]

I don't want your swag but I've got a story.

It used to be an uncool story but, as fads would have it, it's rather cool now.

When I was a wee girl in the mid 60s, I had a habit of disrobing, anytime, anywhere, in front of anybody. It was notorious that my mother should find me by following the trail of clothes.

Well, my big brother was into martial arts and competed regularly and went to exhibitions. Sometimes we'd all go.

One time I went.

And disrobed.

And ran around like a naked 3 year old.

According to legend, another brother was supposed to be watching me, but I slipped under the bleachers, undressed and wandered out onto the gymnasium floor.

When my brother gave chase I ran. The guys that were participating in the exhibition joined in, trying to "wrangled" me back to my family. By all descriptions is sounded much like a greased pig contest.

So, who actually caught my naked 3 year old self?

A very young Chuck Norris.

My brother, who also met Bruce Lee once upon a time, swears it's true.

Lunacy

About a year and a half ago I used to go to see That 70's show taped @ CBS Studio. I went about 18 times and had the pleasure to meet all of the cast and production crew (which was wonderful in and of itself). One of the times I was there we had a special guest in the audience, I honestly did not recognize it until people started asking him for autographs then it hit me. Mark Hamill (Luke Skywalker) was in the audience!! He was there with his daughter and was extremely gracious signing autographs before the show began. He sat about a row behind me! I got his autograph and I was introduced to his daughter. To top it off Topher Grace actually came up into the audience seats (something he has not done before in any prior taping I attended) and bowed to Mr. Hamill (Right in front of me). That was a great evening as I got Mr. Hamill's autograph a copy of the script from the evening's episode and all of the cast's autograph.

I grew up in Anaheim, CA. Every year my family took a trip to Las Vegas. Regis Philbin did a show called "AM Los Angeles". They would do the show live from Las Vegas for one week every year from Cesar's Palace.

We watched the show from a distance. After it was over a crawled through some shrubs to get closer to everyone. A security guard grabbed me and was pulling my arm when Regis spoke up and yelled, "for god's sake, leave the kid alone"! The guard let me go and Regis motioned to me to come over to where he was standing. Some of the crew grabbed Regis and through him in the giant pool just before they came back from the last break. When he got out, he told me to hold the microphone for him while he read the sponsor's names and the thank you's. He said (in that Regis kind of scream) "thanks kid, I could have been electrocuted"! Keep in mind this was around 1978 or so. He introduced me to his co-host Cindy Garvey (LA Dodgers Steve Garvey's smoking hot ex-wife). I also got to meet two of the guests, Billy Carter, and Phyllis Diller. I shook Regis's hand and said thanks.

My parents were inside playing slots at the time. When I told them what happened, they didn't believe me. My brother and sister said, "yeah, he did, we watched him do it".

Way back in the day, my brother defined the "Close Encounter with A Star" ... literally.

At the time the movie "A League of Their Own" was filming in and around Chicago, including Wrigley Field. Most of the cast was staying at the Four Seasons, which comprises part of the 900 North Michigan building, which also houses my brother Kevin's former employer, JMB Realty. The Offices and the hotel are at opposite sides of the building, and he had to run an errand at the hotel. As he rounded the corner, he ran smack into a woman dressed in a robe with a towel wrapped around her hair. As bumps into someone go, this was a bone-rattler! Luckily, they were still standing.

Kevin was shocked by how hard they'd hit but, as a well-mannered guy, he apologized profusely for running into the woman and looked up at her for the first time. Behind the silly spa costume and sunglasses, he recognized the woman as Madonna.

Recovering quickly from the second shock, he asked her ... "Hey, I heard on the radio this morning that you'd broken your nose catching a pop-fly!"

Madonna proceeded to pull her Harry Caray-sized sunglasses half-way down her pristinely unblemished nose and purred ... "Does this look broken to you?", followed by a flirtacious wink.

Needless to say, Kevin was smitten by her good humor.

I asked Willie Nelson for directions.

In the early 80s, I was a surveyor doing a flood control survey in central Texas. I had all of the state of the art tools to do my job: theodolite, 3-d 'stereo' aerial photographs of the area, topographical maps, the whole shebang. Despite all of this equipment, I couldn't find Mansfield Dam. Bear in mind that Mansfield Dam is approx 150 tall and a quarter mile long. It can be seen from SPACE. That morning, unfortunately, it could not be seen from my truck.
Anyhoo, armed with my stereo aerial photos, my topo maps, and a stupid expression, I stepped into a local eatery to ask directions. No one was at the counter so I turned to the diners and there he was: Willie Nelson, eating pancakes and drinking coffee from a paper cup. I said "You're Willie Nelson." He smiled and said something along the lines of "Yes I am." So I asked him for directions to the dam. He told me how to get there. And I left. No autograph, no witnesses, but it is true. It changed my life. On second thought, not so much. Although I bought a Willie Nelson tape soon afterward.

So my father and mother were at the Grand Floridian Spa in Orlando getting massages and the like. Afterwards, they retreated to their separate locker rooms to shower. My father stepped out of his shower, wrapped in a towel and was greeted by a very naked Regis Philbin, towel around his neck. Regis, in his classic fashion, bellowed, "Hey! Where'd you get those TOWELS?" After Dad pointed them out to him, Regis then continued to stand there, naked, and have long-ish (for the situation) conversation with my father.

My dad met my mother in the lobby shortly thereafter, and recounted this tale. Her only reaction?

"Was he cold?"

When I lived in Orlando in the 80's, a friend of mine's dad owned a golf course. So we would take off over there after work every once in a while to play a quick 9 holes. We arrived one afternoon and there was a tour bus in the lot. "Great", we thought, "a busload of old geezers we'll have to keep playing through."
We started our round and noticed the twosome behind us was always catching up (we were not great golfers) so we decided to let them play through.

It was not a bus for old folks, it was Huey Lewis and "the News" playing a round between gigs. He was very polite passing through and hit a great drive. Remember the album "Sports"? It was around the time they were touring that one.

Double Bonus!

At an NCAA tournament baseball game in Wichita, I was rather surprised to turn around and realize that Kevin Costner was sitting directly behind my wife and I. WSU was playing his alma mater (Cal St Fullerton) and he'd apparently flown in just for the game. He was very nice to everyone and even jumped up to help a little girl that got hit by a foul ball.

It was later that we realized that the crowd hovering around the next section down was trying to get autographs from Janeane Turner, who was also in attendance.

WSU won the game and Costner spent a lot of time laughing at the student section that was heckling him mercilessly.

One day I was going to a meeting on site at the Johnson Space Center HQ building. As I got into the elevator I was followed by: John Young (first commander of the shuttle), Sally Ride (1st US woman in space) and Buzz Aldrin (2nd man on the moon.) At 5-10.5 I was the tallest person on the elevator. They were talking about a meeting they were going to, so I didn't bother them.

At a Houston Oilers football game, I stood in the hot dog line with Gene Cernan (last man on the moon) and Alan Shepard (1st American astronaut). Both were quite nice. I was the only person that recognized them. Sic Transit Gloria Mundi.

I played the last hole at Hyannisport Golf Club with Kenny Rogers.

Johnny Winter asked me for directions to the Capital Theater -- his limo driver was lost in Port Chester NY.

Well my Nephew is Anthony Anderson, star of movies like Barbershop, Romeo Must Die and Exit Wounds, and TV Shows like All About the Andersons and The Shield. I have hung out with him many times and met a number of his star buddies, including Jim Carrey and Jett Li. So I dont know if family counts, but as far as doing the star turn, I doubt anyone outside of the industry has done more of the star thing.

I entered an elevator that was heading down to the lobby at The Plaza Hotel in NYC. A slight, very elegantly dressed woman with Diana Ross hair stood beside me. We were alone. Midway down, I all but screamed, "Holy Shit! You're Diana Ross!" To which she gently replied, "Why, yes, I am." And then we left the elevator.

1995, I took my girlfriend to the Air Force/Army hockey game at the USAF Academy. Sitting there in the cheap seats, my girl whispered to me, "That woman sitting next to you looks just like Goldie Hawn!" The guy next to "Goldie" leaned over to me and said, "It is." It was Kurt Russell!

In 1970 I was a co-chairman of a Young Republican Club at a university in East Texas. A Texas Congressman was making a Senate run and we were excited when he decided to come campaign on our campus.As the date approached, he couldn't make it but decided to send his son instead. We put up signs announcing that "Jr." was coming.
I cut class all day to host the Congressman's son. He was shy, very nice, slow spoken yet obviously intelligent. My co-chairman went to class all day but showed up to drive the young man to the airport.
We were saddened when the Republican Congressman lost to Lloyd Bentsen but were pleased we had met our candidate's son.
Who was the son? Well, not a "junior" at all but George Walker Bush. He was polite enough not to correct us.

And who was my co-leader in Young Republicans who was responsible enough to go to class? Now he is Gov. Bill Owens of Colorado.

I went to high school with Cindy Crawford. At the Homecoming game one year, she was sitting near me in the stands. She was wearing jeans tucked into her boots and had been drinking. At one point, she bent down, very classily and threw up on her hair. She then swung her hair back out of her face and continued to watch the game.

Another Cindy: My then boyfriend and I triple dated with her, her date and one other couple. We had lasagne at her house before the dance. At the dance, she was wearing a very short dress and kept lifting it up for all the world to see.

That said...she was very smart and very friendly in high school!

Not sure if these should all be separate...

Hubby was living in D.C. for work last year. One day he was at the Metro station mall in Crystal City, near his apartment. He went in the ATM and suddenly realized there were men in suits standing very closely next to him, awaiting his transaction completion. As he finished, he turned and saw Donald Rumsfeld standing right next to him, using the ATM.

I followed Dominic Monahan (Lost, LOTR) around the Ward Centre Borders in Honolulu a few years ago. I was talking to a friend on my cell phone and when I said, "I think I just saw a Hobbit!" her response was, "Check his feet!" My daughter had her photo taken with him at the Waikiki Beach premiere last fall. Not a biggie, really, because those Lost stars are all over Hawaii. I almost hit Matthew Fox one day near the Honolulu Zoo.

In fact, there are always famous people running around Hawaii. Lisa Loeb and Dweezel Zappa at the mall. Disney TV stars on airplanes. Etc, etc.

I pumped gas next to Jenna Jamison.

I pulled up and jumped out to fill my Tahoe on a Saturday at 11am. I noticed all the guys looking over at the pump island I was fillin up at and after checking my fly and looking for flat tires, I looked around the island to see who/what was on the other side. It was Jenna, wearing a midrift muscle shirt and skin tight blue jeans dressed to the nines, totally smoking hot!

My wife also saw Randy Johnson fill up his red moped at the same gas station; he stuck out like a sore thumb, 6'5" dude ridin a moped.....WTF.

Last Summer in Chicago. Me and my family were all kind of scattered around outside the ESPN zone after dinner. Limo pulls up, no big deal. Girl gets out. Guy with broadcast camera gets out. Another girl gets out.

O.J.Simpson gets out.

O.J. waves at all the people on the sidewalk that aren't actually there (just us, and we're not waving), and goes inside ESPN zone, followed by two more girls, and what appeared to be a 'handler.'

Wasn't until later, I realized I should have asked him to autograph my glove.

It was in the mid-80's, around the time Dino DeLaurentis erected a movie studio outside of Wilmington, NC, and suddenly this sleepy little Southern city on the edge of Cape Fear was awash with all kinds of celebrities...from a young, pre-nubile Drew Barrymore appearing in "Firestarter" to a washed out Michael Cimino trying to stage a comeback long on the heels of the highly successful "Deer Hunter" with a flick called, "Year of the Dragon."

Arnold Schwarzenegger was in town around this time, filming "Raw Deal" (although the working title was "Triple Threat" at the time of the run in I'm about to describe). He'd been getting a fair share of coverage in the local news, but mostly from reporters who had been allowed on the set to watch the filming.

It was a Wednesday afternoon, sometime between five and six. I was into bodybuilding at that time, and spent as much time as I could after work in the local gym. A new Gold's Gym had opened up in the area, attracting all the muscle-wannabies in Wilmington with big crowds during the after work rush hour. I had partnered up with a semi-acquaintance that day so we could spot each other on some heavy bench presses.

We'd finished regular benching and had moved on to dumbbell presses, when suddenly the place erupted in shouting. My partner and I turned toward the entrance to see what had cut loose when we saw the Austrian behemoth strolling over to the lighter end of the dumbbell rack with two bodyguards closely in tow, plus a personal attaché (or whatever the hell you want to call him).

Arnold picked up some light dumbbells and started doing some side shoulder raises, while the bodyguards kept the onrush of admirers at bay. My partner got caught up in the excitement, saying, "It's Arnold! It's Arnold!" and entreating me to go over there.

"Nah" I answered, surprised at my own lack of star-struckedneess. "He probably just wants to be left alone so he can work out. Let's leave him alone. Here, spot me," I said, as I grabbed two hundred pound dumbbells and backed onto a bench.

I had tried this weight before, usually never getting more than six or eight reps. After a slow first start, I got a rhythm going, and could feel my muscles aching and burning with the strain of the weight. Around the sixth rep, I felt someone moving toward me. When the weights clacked together at the top of the movement, I could see Arnold's face get eclipsed behind the stacks of metal plates. I lowered them again and his smiling visage once again emerged. Now he was at the edge of the bench, and suddenly I realized he had moved in to spot me.

Just the excitement from having him this close gave me a shot of adrenaline, and I found myself squeezing out seven, eight...nine...and after taking a deep breath and wrapping my shoulders blades around the base of the bench, ten reps, the last one going up slowly but surely, the strain and effort being driven on by his encouraging smile as he watched and waited to come in and give a hand in case I faltered.

But I didn't. His presence had inspired me to do something I didn't think I could do. After the tenth rep, the weights came crashing down to the floor on each side of me, and I looked up from the bench, too exhausted to sit up. Arnold nodded approvingly and left, his entourage in tow.

To this day I still believe that because we did not go "ape-shit over Arnold when he first came in, he must have felt safe in coming over and interacting with us.

So this was last year. I had just got back to my dorm after a night of somewhat moderate partying and drinking (I had only 4 drinks) - it had been an hour and a half since my last drink, and I had a pretty good recollection of the night's events. So I reach into my pocket to get my key to open the door to my room, and this man walks out.

I look at him, thinking "I've seen this man before." But I had no idea where. My old roommate, who was gay, was sitting up in bed watching the television, and one of those wacky BET videos comes on with the butt-shaking and gyrating and such.

At the first sight of a girl in a thong, it occurs to me who that man I saw really was.

"Dude... what the HELL was Sisqo doing in this room?!" After thinking about it for a second, I said "Never mind, I don't want to know what he was DOING."

(Yes, I'm straight, and yes, I'm quite heteronormative)

I'm sitting in the lobby of the Four Seasons Hotel in Philadelphia, minding my own business with a fine Romeo y Juliet cigar and a pint of Guinness when Scottie Pippin comes strolling through with his posse. He pauses and signs autographs and is basking in his own imagined self-reflected glory. Now, their conversation starts getting loud and it is spoiling the relative congenial atmosphere that pervaded the place prior to his arrival. Waiters seemed dumbstruck and all of a sudden I had an empty glass and no minion working feverishly to get me a fresh drink. And it was all Pippen's fault. After about 3 minutes of this, I pipe up (to no one in particular) - "Only pussies use the backboard to put the rock in the hole!" Hearing this, SP gets me in his radar, puts on a hard ass face and wanders up to me sitting in a fine, overstuffed leather chair and leisurely puffing on the cigar.

Scottie leans in close to me and says: "Did you say something?"

Looking up, I reply, "Why yes, could you get me another Guinness and an oversized ashtray for my cigar? Just put this all on my room." And I press a couple of dollars into his hand to let him know I was serious.

At this, he had no reply, because I gave him no sign of recognition nor did I put down the empty glass that I had stretched out before him. He looked at the bills in his hand, absent-mindedly shoved them into his pocket, then shook his head, rejoined his posse and drifted off through the lobby. Immediately, my waiter was on me refilling my drink and thanking me profusely for hastening the exit of the riff-raff from their lobby in a smooth and forthright fashion.

Scottie Pippen is such a pussy...

When I was around 12 (circa 1972), and Meridith Baxter-Birney was hot, I rode on a chairlift with her.

Remember, I was 12, and it was MB-B. Never mind.

I once touched a book signed by Bruce Campbell (of Evil Dead fame.)

I also live in TN, where Evil Dead was filmed.

Back in the days when I was into professional wrestling (*wince*), I lived pretty near Scott Hall (of the WCW's NWO). We shopped at the same grocery store, and shared the same cashier line more than once. We also shared an elevator at the Orlando Airport.

It was during the time when Hall was allegedly going through drug troubles.

I never talked to him, out of respect for a guy who just wanted to buy his groceries or get on an airplane. I didn't want to bug him.

Plus, he's like four inches taller than me and probably strong enough to kick my ass.

Also, I once sold a video game to Warren Sapp, but I didn't realize it until I was organizing the receipts later in the day.

Back in 1991 I was with a good friend at our local watering hole. We'd gone out partying at Happy Hour on a Thursday and ended up at that bar as it was open till 5 AM. We had been, among other things, drinking pretty heavily that night and were completely hammered. the bar was relatively empty and the US had just declared war on Iraq - Desert Storm - so the bar was decorated with American Flags all over the place.

We ordered up a pitcher of beer and started playing a game of one eyed darts as we could hardly see the numbers on the dartboard. This guy walks in the door, staggers around the bar and plops down on a bar stool next to us.

He orders a draft, chugs it and then picks up our pitcher of beer and pours himself another. My buddy goes ape shit, gets in the guy's face and starts tellinghim off. the guy screams back at my buddy.

But I realize the guy looks familiar and right as my buddy is about to crack his face open with a nice swift right cross, I remember who it is.

I go up to them, tell my buddy "hey. Thats the young guys from Hardcastle and MacCormick" I obviously never knew his name and I had to google it just now, but it was Daniel Hugh Kelly live and in the flesh completely wasted there in a bar in Miami.

So we shake the guys hand, and sit down with him and start talking. I dont remember all we talked about, but after like 15 minutes Desert Storm comes up and tyicaly for the hollywood set, he started criticizing the war and Bush and the whole nine yards.

Now my buddy is a staunch Republican former Army Cuban-American and he took great exception to the guy's remarks. A shouting match between the two ensued which quickly escalated to a pushing and shoving match. Bouncers came, pulled them apart and, - and here's the best part of the story - tossed Daniel Hugh Kelly out on his ass.

The next pitcher was on the house.

When I was in high school - 1984 or 5 - one girl in our group of friends had the "cool" parents. In that time and place it meant we could sit around their basement and watch TV and drink wine coolers whenever we wanted. We didn't abuse the priviledge too much.

She could also have parties once in a while, though they weren't very out-of-control (I think her parents would stay in the kitchen the whole time). At one party, this girl invited a friend who wasn't really part of our group, but was close friends with her. Her tall skinny freaky boyfriend, who nobody at all at the party knew, was there too, though he didn't seem to be interacting with her.

So it's mid-party, and three of my friends and I are sitting on their living room furniture, lightly buzzed. This friend-of-the-hostess comes and sits with us - back to the stairs - but doesn't speak. A few minutes go by, and this boyfriend of hers comes up the stairs and stands behind her.

I pieced together later that she probaby saw his reflection in the sliding glass door on the other side of the room, which she was facing.

All of a sudden - and this was NOT a loud party - she lets out this long, blood-curdling scream. After maybe 2 seconds of this, the boyfriend rears back and WHAM punches her in the side of the head (from behind). She bolts right 90 degress down a hallway and slams a door; he spins and walks down the stairs, out of the party, not to be seen again.

It was the one bizzare, funny (because it wasn't my head), unresolved story from high school we recounted for years.

Last year I went out to dinner with an old boss, whose wife grew up with a lot of folks I went to high school with. She knew the friend-of-the-hostess girl well, and the conversation turned to who she had dated in high school. Apparently he went on to write some music.

I saw Billy Corgan from Smashing Pumpkins punch his girlfriend.

It's about 1994 and I went to a club in DC called the 9:30 club to see a band called LUSH. During the opening band, I notice this guy in front of me shaking his head to the music. He had on a backward baseball cap with the words "everything sucks" stiched into it. And for some reason the way he was moving just seemed familiar, but again I'm right behind him so I'm only seeing the back of his head.

About this time a guy just next to me leans over and says, "It's F-ing Stipe, man." Sure enough, the opening band finishes and Micahel Stipe of REM turns around. It's me and two other guys I don't know in a little circle in the middle of the club. I had seen REM in concert 3 times in college. I was a huge fan at the time and all I could do was grin and put out my hand. He shook it then he put his finger up to silently indicate I shouldn't say anything.

I didn't, but more and more people started to notice him. Just before LUSH came on, he disappeared.

After the show, I hung out by the stairwell for almost an hour. Finally, the guy who was guarding it let me go down where the bands were hanging out. I got Miki Berenyi's autograph, which at the time seemed pretty cool.

A BEEFEATER BRUSHOFF...
It's the mid 60's, midtown Manhattan, summer.
I'm approaching Sardi's West (bar/restaurant) and a crowd is gathered near a limo in front and gawking inside the front window. Pretty good indication that some celeb is in house.
Seated on a bar stool,
I had just picked up my martini from the bar,turned slightly as a man with wild curly hair rushes by,bumping my elbow,and causes the drink to slosh onto the sleeve of my suit. In the same mili-second, I am,at once,face-to-face with the most beautiful set of violet eyes the world has ever seen. "We're sorry", she quietly offered. It was,of course, Elizabeth Taylor at her stuunning best and on the heels of her then husband, Richard Burton.

Last year, I'm coming off a plane at LAX and I see Jay Leno in the waiting area. He comes up to me and says, "Hey, I know you. You're OregonMuse, famous commenter on Wizbanblog." I said "Yes, I am." He said, "It's great to meet you. Here's lots of money." And Jay gave me a big wad of bills. I tell you, it's great to be me.

Later on that night, I was set up on a blind date with Morgan Fairchild.

All of this really happened, I swear.

I thought long and hard on this. By nature of being a military Public Affairs Specialist, I've had the good fortune to meet several different celebrities on varying ends of the popularity spectrum.

But I think the greatest encounter I ever had was meeting one of the greatest Americans to live.

In May 1995, I met Medal of Honor recipient and conscientious objector Desmond T. Doss during the 50th Commemoration of the Battle of Okinawa.

Here's a link to my post about it on my site.

Well, who won????