The Louis Armstrong Story

In 1996 I worked with a German woman who was maybe 60 years old or so. Her name was Maren and she was super sweet and I loved leaning over the coats to chat with her. Maren told me that as a teenager in Germany, she worked at a highfalutin chocolate house and that one day a group of black men came into the shop. Having never seen a black person in her life, Maren was slightly frightened, as is a normal human reaction to the unknown. She ducked into the back room and told her boss about the strange men in the store. He peeked out and saw them. He immediately directed Maren to get out there and give them the best possible service, for those men were Louis Armstrong and his band. They were performing in town that very night! Now Maren was really scared. She, in her best English, spoke with shaky hands to Louis Armstrong who asked her to put together a five pound box of chocolates and wrap them as a gift. Maren painstakingly selected the chocolates, arranged them delicately in the box, and wrapped them to perfection. He then asked for a one pound box of the house's finest chocolates and to wrap that box with specific care. She did so, rang him up and as Mr. Armstrong turned to leave, he passed the one pound box back to Maren as a token of his appreciation for her service. "Well, I will tell you," Maren began, "I went right down to the record shop on my lunch break and bought every Louis Armstrong album they had and I've been a fan ever since. He was a lovely, lovely man!" Top that story, kids. I double dog dare ya.

(photo kidnapped from imdb)

Green Day

Hanging out with Melissa late last night, we had the cable set on the alternative station and were thoroughly enjoying the steady stream of Eurythmics, Bauhaus, Depeche Mode, and The Clash. Then Green Day came on, and Melissa said, "Did I ever tell you that two of my friends hooked up with two of the guys from Green Day?" I thought she had mentioned once that a girl she knew had slept with Tre Cool, but I never got the whole scoop. Apparently back in Summer 1993, two of her friends went to see Green Day and wound up hanging out with the band; one gal hooked up with Tre and the other with Billie Joe. Then Melissa goes on to tell me that July 31, 1993 - which was the last day that anyone could smoke in The Cherry Hill Mall - she hung out in the Food Court with her two friends, her BFF Amy, and Green Day. Clearly this was before Green Day hit it big and Melissa found them to be like most young men and was not cast under the spell of their pending stardom. But it is kinda cool to know that she once smoked cigarettes at a mall in Jersey with future Tony Award winners.

(photo kidnapped from greendayauthority) 

Ron Wood

(photo kidnapped from smh)

Years ago, my best friend's father's best friend, Mr. Heywood, was at a bar, in I believe Heathrow Airport waiting on a flight. Just down a few stools sat Ron Wood. Apparently, the two of them got to talking and Ron asked what Mr. Heywood did for a living. He replied that he was a metallurgist. This set Ron Wood - lead guitarist for The Rolling Stones - on the edge of his seat as he asked, "Really?? A metallurgist, how fascinating! Tell me more..."

And that is how I am a mere one degree of separation from Ron Wood, cause I met Mr. Heywood back in the 80s when he was visiting the States on business.

Matt Damon

(photo kidnapped from justjared.buzznet)

Actually, I am a mere one degree of separation from Mr. Damon. Back in the early Aughts I worked with Lisa O'Donnell of Cambridge, Mass. She told me that one time she was heading back home on the train from 30th Street in the early 90s and swore that she saw the hot bad boy from School Ties across the way. She wanted to talk to him to get a better look and asked if he'd like to take the window seat and she'd take the aisle. Lame, but she said it was totally him. She also said that he was so hot that part of her face started to melt.
As for my personal opinion, I've always admired the choices Matt Damon makes regarding his career. I first took note of him in Courage Under Fire and how could you not? His physical transformation was startling. Later, when I saw him in Good Will Hunting I was blown away by his total immersion into the character. After he exploded onto the scene, he went on to work with some of the greatest directors in the biz (Coppola, Minghella, Soderbergh, The Farrelly Brothers, Spielberg, Gilliam, Scorsese, and Eastwood, The Coen Brothers) and I was always secretly proud of him and the roles he took on; I still am. The Adjustment Bureau was spectacular and showcased yet another flawless performance.

Ms. Hyman

In 1995 I worked at a record shop with a fabulous gentleman named Brian. He was in his mid thirties, very tall, with broad shoulders and a Cheshire's grin. One Tuesday in November we were unloading the new releases. Brian held in his hand I Refuse to Be Lonely by Phyllis Hyman. He paused and let out a long, low sigh. I looked over his shoulder at the beauty on the cover and asked who was that lovely lady he was a-swoonin' over. Not taking his eyes from her, he explained that she was an R&B singer who had killed herself just a few months back. He turned to me, his eyes looking off into the distance, and told me about the night of his bachelor party. He and his crew had gone out to a club in Philly and while at the bar, Brian noticed that Phyllis Hyman was seated just a few feet away. He confidently walked over and said, "Excuse me, Ms. Hyman, my name is Brian and tonight is my bachelor party; tomorrow I'm gettin' married. It would be such a pleasure and an honor if the last woman I ever dance with would be you." She smiled and allowed him to escort her to the floor where he danced his last dance as a single man with the talented and gorgeous Phyllis Hyman.

Ms. Hyman...

...to Brian...

...to me! One degree of separation, baby! (Ms. Hyman's photo kidnapped from abagond / foto of brian by me! lisa star / foto of me - self portrait)

Sidney Poitier

In the early 1990s my beloved grandparents, Thomas and Irma, vacationed in Orlando, Florida and stayed at the luxurious Grand Floridian Hotel. My grandad came back from their trip and told me that while walking through the hotel's lobby he saw actor Sidney Poitier. I would have been spellbound, starstruck, gobsmacked. Not Grandpa Tom. He walked right over and shook Mr. Poitier's hand and told him how much he admired his acting and the profound affect that he has had on their generation. As I stood listening to this story with my fourteen year old jaw on the floor, Grandad stuck out his giant hand and said, "Shake the hand of the man who shook the hand of Mister Sidney Poitier!" And I totally did.

The legendary Sidney Poitier...
...to Grandpa Tom...
...to Mii! Booya!! One degree of separation.

One Degree From the Duke

My dear friend, Karen, worked at The Scripps Clinic in La Jolla back in the sixties. She was a free and fabulous spirit even then, complete with her yellow convertible VW Bug, the trademark automobile for a true hippie chick. Last year Karen told me that working at Scripps allowed her to meet several interesting celebrities. Among them were Andy Williams, J. Edgar Hoover, and John Wayne. The John Wayne story is my favourite. She spoke of how his beautiful Latina wife would drive him to the hospital in an old station wagon and of how one time she got to escort Mr. Wayne down the hallway while he was dressed in his bathrobe. Karen said that he was incredibly tall and incredibly kind. I love to hear her tell this story because her eyes open wide and sparkle. Her face breaks into a sweet smile and one can see that she is remembering back to how pleased she was to discover that the man she had admired for so many years was everything she imagined he would be. And then some.

Six Degrees of Me

Everyone's gotta have a parlour trick, something that impresses guests at cocktail parties. For me that talent is that I can connect myself to nearly any celebrity in six degrees or less. My favourite connection is to John Lennon. Now, I personally feel that I am one degree from John Lennon because I knew someone who met him directly. Others would believe it to be two degrees, but this is my game, so essentially, it's my rules. Okay, so when I was nineteen, my therapist was musician/artist John Palumbo. In the late 70s and early 80s John and his wife lived in NYC not far from The Dakota on 72nd and Central Park West. If memory serves, Palumbo was at a local shop (and for some reason I feel like there were oranges involved?? So I'm assuming that John was snagging some produce), anyway...Palumbo was at the store when he looks up to see John Lennon. Palumbo managed a hello and Lennon smiled and said hello back. Over the course of time from that day until Lennon's death, John would see him periodically and nod hello as they passed eachother. How cool is that??

so there's me...
to John...
...to John Lennon!One degree of separation, baby!