Don’t call him Hootie.
ok, so I’ve talked about my old life travels, but I’ve left off some of the great stories about the people I was lucky enough to meet along the way…..
– Daytona Beach, High School Grad Celebratory trip. H.S. friend, Missy, lost her fake ID to a cranky liquor store owner and his ‘behind the register bulletin board’, but I did meet a boy who called himself, “Troy Whitrock III”. A little movie star fake, sure, but to date, my dad still loves that some boy would create such a name, and I would believe. Perhaps he is a broadway star today. 🙂
– College trip, Gulf Shores and New Orleans for St. Pat’s Day. The XO girls drank with Woody Harrelson and Linda Lovelace (yep, the retired porn star next to the dueling pianos), while Harry Connick and that beautiful model girlfriend strutted by the ‘oxygen for sale’ store as we found our way to the Cat’s Meow or whatever happened to be next in those early NOLA days. We missed the state line on our way back to Gulf Shores and wound up in FL, but hey, it’s not every day you spend Patty’s Day with Lovelace or Harrelson, right?
– High School Family Trip, Bermuda. Younger brother (jr high age) ran directly (yes, literally) into Coretta Scott King. Larger-than-life body guards brought him to my parents very quickly to ensure that didn’t happen again. (Course, moments later a toilet reverse flushed on another patron so the pressure was off our family and hotel security was quickly distracted.)
– College, I was a nanny in Southampton, NY. While getting ice cream downtown with my 9 + 10-year-old girls, we walked by Christie Brinkley. Yes, a regular woman and just as beautiful without Photoshop. The girls were focused on ice cream choice, I was in awe of how you look that good without makeup. Seriously, does she have a fan that moves in front her at all times to get that “natural, just blown beautiful look?”
– Same Summer, polo from the poor man’s side of the fence, to see Ralph Lauren from afar (picture the Great Gatsby). On the upside, my nanny friends and I did meet Jimmy Cliff after sneaking into a club in Montauk. That was cool.
– Won tix via a local radio station to a Rams players event in downtown STL for my husband’s birthday. Hootie and the Blowfish opened. I learned quickly his first name is not Hootie, and you most certainly do not ask for an autograph as such.
– I am not sure to be proud or slightly embarrassed that I not only show up on the Fixx website in more than one state and venue still today, but may have stalked their tour bus on more than one occasion.
– Working Women’s Survival Show. Loretta Switt has had a survival show of her own with a facelift. (but hey no differently than breast augmentation, “You buy it or you grow it, it’s still your own.”)
– “It’s not unusual…..” Or is it?……..Tom Jones really does have the died hair thing going, wearing all black and carrying arm candy. (after hours bar in Nashville, TN). For real.
– Kevin Bacon is shorter than me. (outside the MOMA, NYC)
– Hagar’s Cabo Wabo is a real place with real stars. The NFL players thought we were all that until the Victoria’s Secret models walked in. But it was sure cool when the boys we met showed up in the All Star Game the next season on our home TVs. (Cabo, Mexico)
– I was honored to fit many a Hell’s Angel for a motorcycle seat over years of motorcycle rallies…just regular guys who know cool goes away and comfort does mean something with age. 🙂
– Everlife was the teen, hip Evanesence, and my sweet girl was all up in their front row, stalking like her mama. (so proud).
– Christy Turlington, many a news/sportscaster and athlete on planes, cab stops, hotel bars, and airports around the globe…..
– And finally, yes, I stroked Kevin Costner’s chest, like a crazed fan who didn’t think straight but could only lift an arm, smile, say hello and stroke the front of his denim shirt in the man’s own restaurant (and in front of the bathrooms no less). Unable to talk beyond the silly girl giggle (and yes in my mid-30s), I ran back to the table of his restaurant in Deadwood, SD to share with my coworkers who would eventually strike up a conversation with him in the men’s room. And yes, there isn’t a need to Photoshop my friend, Kevin, either.
Not quite a Murphy, but definitely a Mel.