Wait a minute, you met who?

Addnine

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I met James Taylor in a bar in Stockbridge, MA. "What are you doing around here," I asked. "I'm over at the Riggs Clinic, in the rehab program," he said. Riggs is a very expensive drunk tank for rich kids. There ya go. Now we know why "Sweet Baby J" sung about "the turnpike from Stockbridge to Boston."

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Kerberos

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My wife and I were at "Rascals" concert at Jones Beach Theater on Long Island a few years ago. It's a Stadium setting, an outdoor venue, very nice in the in the summer. We were there early hanging out. I wandered off close by leaning over a railing, it over looks the VIP area. I see this woman in a Tie Dye dress, kinda swaying back and forth, a pretty woman. I've seen her before, but can't place her. Then it hits me, she's a executive spokesperson for PBS, seen her on TV many times. And...I know who she's married to. I see her husband get up start heading for the tunnel to go to the bathroom, as he passes I yelled out "Mr. Webb!" He turns around sees me, walks back over to me and shakes my hand. I said "Thank you so much for MacArthur Park". It was Jimmy Webb, Grammy Winning Songwriter, Up Up and Away, MacArthur Park, Wichita Lineman, Galveston.
 

bigbean

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I’ve met
Pat Metheny, Steve Morse, Eric Johnson, Mike Judge, Wanda Jackson, David Ball, Lee Roy Parnell, Steve Wariner, Junior Brown, Kim Mitchell, Dickey Betts, Dan Toler, James Burton, Rick Trevino, Rusty Weir, Doug Sahm, Frank Marino, Dennis Quaid, George Grantham, Frosty, Herb Remington, Jimmy Day, Tiny Moore, Johnny Gimble, Ray Benson, Maryann Price, Chris O’Connell, Glenn Tillbrook, Jerry Jeff Walker, Ray Wylie Hubbard, Kevin Welsh, Stu Cook, Steven Frumholz, Tommy Shannon, Redd Volkaert, Tom Brumley, Woody Paul, Ranger Doug Green, and a few others I can’t recall.

Most were in the course of my music store day jobs, or my bar band “opening act’’ night job.
I even had the great pleasure of playing with a few of these artist
s.
All were classy, cool, and great musicians.
One of the nights he set in with you guys I was there at the club. He did a good job on some Jerry Lee tunes! It was a great experience being there.

I had long lunch with Chrissy Hynde (I bought) back in the nineties. Since her brother is friend of mine I later fixed the total crap sound system at her very nice restaurant for free. I figured if I had a sister who owned a restaurant I'd expect him to help her out, so there you are.

Steve Earle came in the back door of a guitar show room where I was trying to sell a guitar to a young lady who had no idea who the scruffy looking dude that just wandered in was. Not wanting to lose the sale or piss him off, I turned around and said (like I'd known him for 30 years)

"Hey Steve, What's Up?" He said "Where can I get something decent to eat?" I gave him directions to some Mexican food. "No man, I had Mexican yesterday." So I gave directions to Ray's. Afterwards he came back and spent some time in the store and signed a Vintage Guitar Magazine issue where he was on the cover for the guitar tech. He seemed to be in much better mood after he had lunch.

I didn't get that sale, by the way.
 

RoscoeElegante

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Okay, I'll stop joking around....

My big brushes with celebrity:

For much of one summer when I was about 12, I cut O.J. Simpson's lawn. He lived a few neighborhoods over and had seen me sitting there catching stunted sunfish in one of the artificial ponds in that 'hood. I heard a big car stop, back up, and shut off. Looked up to see a red Cadillac convertible and a large-headed black man--a rare sight in that 'hood, for sure, as much for that huge noggin as for anything else. I knew instantly who he was, so my jaw was in my lap. "Hi. Catching anything and do you know how to cut grass?" He put my bike and fishing gear in the Caddy's trunk and drove me to his house a few blocks away. He had a new, fancy, four-cycle mower and wasn't sure what to do with it, and was between landscapers, etc. He paid very well, his (first) wife was very gracious, and O.J. himself was...oddly tense, distractible, impulsive, panicky. At one point, mid-summer, he decided that we needed to rush to K-Mart to stock up on his kids' school supplies. He was mobbed there, of course loved the attention, and sent me around with the list to get the stuff. I was glad to, though I wasn't sure why his kids would need 100 pens, etc. When we got back to his house, he'd forgotten all about the bags of school supplies in the back seat and bolted inside, panicked about lemonade, or something like that. When he left for training camp, he promised to hire me for next year, but I never heard from him or his wife again. He much liked people, in his way, but there was a screw loose and five wires too tight in there. So, yeah, I do think he later did what was he was acquitted of. I never saw or overheard him erupt, but he was just coiling with tensions.

When I was a social worker for (these are the era's terms) retarded and autistic adults, one of our clients LOVED Sissy Spacek. I'm taking a bunch of clients to a Friday night movie and there, at the back of the theater, sitting beside her husband, is herself, Ms. Spacek. Once I got the clients settled in, I went back to tell Ms. Spacek that I worked for the local social services agency and that one of the clients would love to meet her after the movie, that the client didn't know she was here so please feel free to say no, and sorry to disturb you and your husband. But she jumped right up and said, "I'd love to come down and say hi." She did, and the client, a very large lady, was thrilled, to the point where I had to pry her off the tiny Sissy. Not an iota of patronizing in their conversation, just a very genuine and pitch-perfect human kindness and respect. During the movie, the client kept looking back and waving at Ms. Spacek, who waved back each time. They hugged again on our way out.

Two years later, I'm walking with a dear friend and her three little girls at the county fair. Ms. Spacek stops us to ask if we'd like all her ride tickets--she had to go unexpectedly. She didn't recognize me but remembered the client's name when I thanked her again for being so gracious previously and asked me to tell the client hi. She also told my friend, "Your daughters are really cute," and chatted with them, again very graciously.

By contrast, Ted Kennedy, at a high school students go to DC trip meet and greet kinda thing, upon shaking my hand, pulled me out of the way--because the high schooler beside me was very good-looking and Ted wanted to ogle without obstruction. He looked at her the way a Rottweiler sizes up a pork chop. Didn't even reply to her "Hello, sir's" attempt to be human about things. He just looked for the next nearest pretty high schooler. Ca-reepy. Then he stepped on my foot.

During a very somber ceremony at our university, a Virginia governor also stepped on my foot while not looking me in the eye as we shook hands, as his eyes searched for whatever press members were taking his picture at the moment while he "show[ed] how much [he] deeply, deeply care[d]" about the families of slain students. He'd come in the door, 20 min. late, laughing with the university president about their morning golf game, to a circle of grieving parents and spouses, student survivors, some with the bullets still in them. During the ceremony, while 32 murdered students' lives were recounted, the governor held up his speech to yawn behind it, while he looked bored out of his mind. Yep, noble man, that.

I used to cut the lawns and snow-shovel the driveways of two Buffalo Sabres, Don Luce and Craig Ramsey. Nice enough guys, though they were always bruised and bleary from the nights' previous games. I remember their very pretty wives more sharply.

My dad met Mohammed Ali when he was that and, previously, when he'd been Cassius Clay. Clay, he said, was "arrogant," but Ali "gentlemanly." Ditto Lew Alcindor and Kareem Abdul- Jabaar, who was "elegant and thoughtful" both times. He also met Woodie Allen ("tiny and friendly"). My mom met the Celtics' Bill Russell. When she asked him for an autograph for my brother, he replied, "I don't do autographs, man." She also met Willie Stargell at a banquet where he gave a speech. She said that Willie was "massive and friendly." She found herself standing in an elevator beside Howard Hughes when she was a secretary at Variety magazine in NYC. She thought he was a bum or a janitor going up to fix a leak or something until the elevator operator told her "That was the richest man in America." She said he looked surly, bitter, and very, very cold.

My oldest daughter looked up--well, down--beside her on a Toronto street as she waited to cross and there was Dustin Hoffman, also waiting. She could think of nothing to say but "Thank you, Mr. Hoffman" and he grinned and said, "You're very welcome, but I'm not sure for what." The light changed, he said, "Take care," and that was that.

I stopped to chat with Ozzie Smith while he sat at an autograph-signing table in Cooperstown. He seemed like a very decent, smart guy. I told him, "It was such a pleasure to watch you play" and he replied, "I loved every bit of it."

And that's the full clip of my claims to vicarious fame.
 

Skully

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When I was a social worker for (these are the era's terms) retarded and autistic adults, one of our clients LOVED Sissy Spacek. I'm taking a bunch of clients to a Friday night movie and there, at the back of the theater, sitting beside her husband, is herself, Ms. Spacek. Once I got the clients settled in, I went back to tell Ms. Spacek that I worked for the local social services agency and that one of the clients would love to meet her after the movie, that the client didn't know she was here so please feel free to say no, and sorry to disturb you and your husband. But she jumped right up and said, "I'd love to come down and say hi." She did, and the client, a very large lady, was thrilled, to the point where I had to pry her off the tiny Sissy. Not an iota of patronizing in their conversation, just a very genuine and pitch-perfect human kindness and respect. During the movie, the client kept looking back and waving at Ms. Spacek, who waved back each time. They hugged again on our way out.

I've never met or talked to Sissy Spacek, but I have interviewed her husband of 48 years, production designer Jack Fisk, a few times.
 

dogmeat

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Gerry Garcia, Dave Crosby, Carlos Santana, a very young Neil Schone, Marty Balin, Dino Valente, John Cipollina, Randy Holden (Blue Cheer), David La Flamme (Beautiful Day)... a few more Bay Area people you prolly haven't heard of.... this was 1970/71. Michael McKean sat in and jammed at my house band gig in 74 ('73?). Elvin Bishop in the mid 80's... he made dinner at my place. long story

yeah... but no George Harrison. I remember a Clapton interview when he said that for all his fame, when they went someplace together, George was the focus of attention
 
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Sparky2

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I came across Neil Young sitting on a sea wall and staring at the ocean in Bermuda. Early 90s I guess. We looked at each other and I knew it was him. He knew I knew it was him. He kinda had this look on his face like please leave me alone. I left him alone. You do not mess with someone’s staring at the ocean time.

I had nearly the same experience years ago on the North Shore of Oahu.

It was late 1997, and I was running the paved pedestrian/bicycle trail.
As I ran abreast Sunset Beach, I saw a guy leaning against the hood of his vehicle, staring forlornly out at the ocean.

As I passed him, I realized that it was Carl Wilson of The Beach Boys.
I wanted to stop and be a fan, but something made me keep on running.
The man was lost in thought, and didn't need me (or anybody) disturbing his peace.

I reached my turnaround point, and said to myself, "Well, if he is still there when I go back by, I'll just say 'Hi Carl, love your music', as I run past him".

Sure enough, he was gone by that point and that was okay.

Turned out that his mother wasn't doing well medically, and he himself was dying of lung cancer.
A few months later, Carl Wilson passed away, two months after his mother had passed.

Rest in peace, and God only knows.

😞
 

brookdalebill

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Like @Sparky2 and @mr natural, I opted not to directly engage with a childhood idol.
I “met” John Sebastian at the Summer NAMM show here in Austin, about 15 years ago.
I kept running into him at various booths.
I just nodded and smiled.
He did the same.
I resisted the urge to chat him up.
I figured he didn’t need to hear another guy tell him how much happiness he brought in his youth.
 
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boris bubbanov

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I hear that.

I think this is why "well known" people would rather just visit with the people they know (be they parking garage operators or whatever) as opposed to doing the "fan" thing. Pete Fountain was a contract customer at one of the lots I ran and when I was there, I'd see him at least once every day. The conversation has known boundaries and all Mr. Fountain had to be was just another customer, to me. He didn't have to be Pete Fountain. He might be griping about the lousy contract he'd be roped into by the hotel he was doing that regular nightly gig at, or about something that was wrong with the power seat or fuel pump in his car, or the weekend noise level out by the Lakefront (where his home was).

I think the "fan" thing makes me more queasy than it does the notorious person - but if I can avoid that, I'm happy to make conversation.
 
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GGardner

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Sly Stallone. This is an embarrassing story about my shallowness. We were staying at a hotel in New Orleans. I got up early to work out in the hotel gym. My family was asleep. The only other person in the gym was a young fit woman running on one of the treadmills. She was facing the wall. I was standing in front of the TV, resting between sets, when this older guy comes in, steps in front of me, and changes the channel. WTF? I'm annoyed and return to whatever machine I was using. He starts doing these mat exercises and grunting. Shut the eff up, I'm thinking. Then he gets on the treadmill right next to the woman--there were a bunch of others he could have chosen, but he selected the one right next to her. He starts running sideways on the treadmill while talking loudly to someone on the phone. She doesn't turn her head. Good, I think, don't feed the pigeons. Suddenly, I realize who it is. I call my wife. "Sylvester Stallone is in the gym with me." She says she wants to see for herself. Now, instead of being perturbed, I'm dying for him to not leave before she gets there. I know that if he does, she'll be forever telling people how I confused some stranger for Sly Stallone. But like his mat workout, his sideways treadmill thing is really short-lived. He leaves. Seconds later, my wife comes in with my youngest kid in tow, obviously pulled from her bed. I say, "You guys must have walked right past him, he just left." We walk down the hall and he's standing there waiting for the elevator. I walk up to him and say, "I'm sorry, but are you..."
He smiled and nodded.
I said, "I've never asked anyone this before, but is there any way I could trouble you for a photo with my kid?"
It would have been completely understandable for him to say, "No. It's 7 in the morning. I'm sweaty and gross. And on vacation. I came down here at this hour just so I could avoid some idiot asking me for a photo."
But he smiled and beckoned to me like, "Bring it on."
So I got a photo of him standing next to my kid. She had no idea who he was.
That was about 10 or 11 years ago.
His latest movie just came out on Amazon Prime. I sent a link to the trailer to her.
She replied with a smiling emoji.
 
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SlideGuy123

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Virginia
Met Smokin' Joe Frasier -- he was a guest at my second cousin's bar mitzvah 40-some years ago.

Met a few musicians after their shows at smaller venues -- Albert Lee was/is a delightful human being, Marshall Crenshaw was very friendly, most others were at least engaged.

Said "Hi" to Brian Wilson at Dulles Airport. I was nearly shaking (with joy) to be in proximity to him.

But the absolute best happened earlier this year, at Gruhn's in Nashville. I was trying some banjos and this gent wanders over. I instantly knew it was John McEuen of the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band -- one of my absolute banjo idols.

He ended up hanging out with me and my friend for an hour. He played banjo, told stories, and was generally a nice guy. He even showed me the intro to Some of Shelley's Blues, and I couldn't help myself - I sang along. He said "I can't believe you know the words!" Dude, the Uncle Charlie album is a big part of why I play what I play.
 

Telenator

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Here's a picture of me and some guy who said he'd played piano and stuff. I was photographing him with his custom bike for a motorcycle magazine. I met so many cool people during my photography days. Best years of my life.
 

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ndcaster

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Indiana
Pete Fountain
Hey boris, did you ever meet Pud Brown? another clarinetist down there and kind of a local hero to some, maybe not celebrity enough for this thread

I think he used to play at the Palm Court

lots of, ahem, colorful characters down there
 

Doomguy

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I literally almost ran into Jerricho Cotchery when I was in third grade. He was on the Jets then and showed up at our elementary/middle school for some kind of event. He was walking down the hallway in the opposite direction of me, I was being a stupid kid and we almost collided. He thought it was pretty funny. It was really cool for my family and I when he signed with our Steelers some years after.

A few years later, I was 15 and in the market for a new guitar. My mom drove me down to the local music store after school and I'm being my stupid metal playing self, playing the sloppiest rendition of Sepultura's Troops of Doom imaginable. I bring the guitar back up to the counter, see my mom and the manager of the store all giddy and excited, talking to each other. Apparently I had been plugged in next to John Rzeznik from the Goo Goo Dolls. I had no clue who he was and still don't. Couldn't even tell you one of their songs. I tried out another guitar immediately after and he must've got sick of me and left (I think he bought and Epiphone SG and some kind of acoustic?).

Met most of the 2016 NY Red Bulls during a fan meet and greet thing. I got a picture with Shaun Wright-Phillips and had the majority of the players sign an old jersey of mine. Felipe Martins was exceptionally nice (despite having a reputation as a massive Richard on the field) and earned a lifelong fan. Later on in the night, we got to meet club legend and long time backup GK Ryan Meara. The dude in front of us in line was bringing out drawings he did of all of the players, having them sign them and such, but he didn't bring one for Ryan. I don't think he even bothered to talk to Ryan. Ryan awkwardly turns to my dad and I and immediately goes "so how's your night been?" with this extremely crestfallen, lost little puppy look on his face.

I went to HS with and had a couple classes with Will Fries, a guard on the Indianapolis Colts. He was two years ahead of me. I didn't know him too well but he was always nice when we interacted.
 

dented

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Who paid?
It was free to all of us. I taught rules of the road and safety for race car drivers. I was a licensed Race Marshall (Still am) from SCCA and these guys were in my class at Willow Springs. They were prepping for the Toyota Celebrity Race at the Long Beach Grand Prix. After morning meeting and some track fun we went in for lunch. As I entered the lunch area Keanu and Adrian were sitting at a table and I was looking for a place to sit. Keanu gave a little push to a chair next to him and said "here Brad, have a seat!" I actually bent his ear about bass playing and motorcycles. He is very nice and congenial like the stories go.
 

ChicknPickn

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In the late seventies, I was with my parents in DC having breakfast in a diner. I spotted someone I recognized having coffee and reading the paper up at the counter. Then I realized it was Danny Thomas. I went over and told him that I thought his daughter was VERY PRETTY. He smiled and thanked me.

My brush with stardom.
 




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