So many, actually, and not that many assholes.
Jody Foster - Foul mouth but really smart and perceptive questions about the book I was reading poolside in WeHo.
George Segal - Saw me struggling and helped me put a lawnmower in the trunk of a friend's car and stayed to talk about it. Down to earth guy for Beverly Hills.
Dolly Parton - A national treasure. But you knew that.
Roy Scheider - Always shared the NY Times and a smart take on the day's news every morning in the hotel hot tub.
Walter Cunningham (Apollo 7 astronaut) - at a dinner. Amazing ability to connect with people and explain both the mechanics and the importance of the space program.
Queen Latifah - Sweet, modest (or else great at appearing to be) and a lovely smile. JFK.
Cheyenne Jackson - Chatty and funny at LAX, seemed disappointed we weren't on the same plane.
Mel Brooks - We were on the same plane. He couldn't stop talking and the whole first class cabin couldn't stop laughing.
Abigail Van Buren - the original Dear Abby, sitting next to us at Spiaggia in Chicago. Very gracious. I should have asked for some advice.
Ann Miller - She talked like she danced: non-stop, bubbly, great energy into her 70's. Tryouts for "Dreamgirls" pre-Broadway.
Shirley Bassey - Told me I had to meet this handsome, charming guy she'd just spoken to at the party. I asked her who he was and she pointed out my bf. I remember kissing her (great scent, whatever it was), thanking her, and telling her we'd been together for about 20 years. She said, "I know why." "Maybe you do, maybe you don't," I remember thinking, "but we're not going into that here." I still remember her perfume.
Barbara Cook - Grace, charm, talent and perseverance personified. And even in her 80's, that amazing voice, speaking and singing...
Lennox Lewis - Loose, funny, handsome and very, very charming at Spiegelworld in Miami.
Steve Allen - a true polymath in a hideous hairpiece; wit and erudition at the next table at lunch in, of all places, the Harvard Faculty Club.
Brett Favre - the ultimate hot dirty whiteboy with big, big feet, big laugh, and entertaining the whole bar. Sheraton Torrey Pines, LaJolla, pre-Superbowl 1998
Pete Seeger - not me, my Dad: old ex-McCarthyite meets old ex-Commie folksinger on the sloop "Clearwater," they find common ground, and bond over cleaning up rivers and waterways.
Frank Sinatra - not me, my Mom: old bobbysoxer (by then) meets Old Blue Eyes. Mom's chatting with Barbara Sinatra and introducing her to big-bucks donors at the reception before a benefit concert she helped to organize and tells her how she swooned over Frankie at the Paramount as a girl. Barbara asks if she still remembered what he sang. Mom tells her, thinking she's just making conversation. Two hours later from the stage Sinatra asked her to stand and take a bow, says "This is for Susan who set up this clambake" and sang "Violets for Your Furs" to her. She was in tears. She said later that some of the other women on the committee, including the Mayor's wife, were a little frosty to her about the shoutout, but did Mom care? Not a bit. Besides, they sold out Symphony Hall and raised $250,000 for charity.
