Chance Encounters of the Celebrity Kind

Alright, enough with the heavy stuff… for now.

Recently while shooting the breeze with friends, we got to talking about random brushes with celebrity. Thought I’d share some of mine here. (Proviso: I will not refer to confidential discussions I might have had in my professional capacity.)

1. 1965: Game Ball at Fenway Park (Age 11)
When my dad was director of athletics at New Hampton School in the late 50s and early 60s, he bought lots of equipment from Wilson Sporting Goods. As a thank-you, his Wilson rep gave my dad two tickets to a game against the Twins and arranged for me to go into the clubhouse before the game where then manager Billy Herman presented me with a ball signed by the whole team, including Yaz, Conigliaro, Rico Petrocelli, Jim Lonborg, etc. As excited as I was, I could not get over the casual, laid-back way that the Sox players were getting ready for the game. Having grown up watching my dad’s teams get totally psyched before games, it was like they didn’t care. (It could also have had something to do with the fact that, at the time, they were knocking on the cellar door of the American League pennant race!) The Sox lost that day. (I did get to see Harmon Killebrew — awesome name! — hit 2 homers for the Twins.) We then went to the recently opened Top of the Pru before heading home. Wish I still had that ball.

2. 1965: Rejected by Bill Russell (Age 11)
That same summer, my dad took me to a Celtics summer exhibition game in Dover, NH. I cornered Russ post-game as he was walking out of the locker room. Looking right through me, he waved me off with “Not now, kid.” (Twenty-five years later I read his autobiography, zeroing in on his explanation of why he did not do autographs.) I did rub paper on the tires of his car to at least get something to remember. Although I lost out with Russ, I ended up with quite an autograph haul that night: KC and Sam Jones, Red Auerbach, John Havlicek, Tommy Heinsohn, and Satch Sanders.

3. 1966: Satchel Paige (Age 12)
When the Harlem Globetrotters came to Bath, Mr. Paige travelled with them to lead the Trotters’ signature baseball routine. With my dad being a pitcher in his youth and a longtime baseball coach, I knew all about the pitching exploits of Satchel Paige. So, while my buddies ran to the Globetrotter players for autographs, I made a beeline for Satchel. He signed his autograph and told me to stay out of trouble.

4. 1970: Chillin’ with the great Oscar Peterson (Age 16)
Piano was big in our childhood home: Oscar, Errol Garner, Art Tatum, Ray Charles, Ahmad Jamal, etc. Once on a long weekend to NYC, our family went to a joint called Plaza 9 & All That Jazz to hear Oscar Peterson. At one point, my dad called the maitre d’ over and said, “Please put Oscar’s next drink on my tab and ask him if he would play X on his next set.” (I do not recall the title of the song.) Then when Oscar took his next break, he came over to our table, thanked my dad, and asked, “How do you know that song? Haven’t played it in years.” My father explained that he had been a fan since the pianist’s days in Montreal. Oscar exclaimed, “Wow, You were following me way back then?” My dad nodded and Oscar said, “This next set, I’ll play whatever you want.” (Me: Wait… My dad’s cool?)

5. 1971: Sen. Edmund S. Muskie in the Hyde Teak Room (Age 17)
Hyde’s first board of trustees was a veritable Who’s Who of Maine. When Senator Muskie was on the board — in the time coinciding with his front-runner status for the Presidency! — he always insisted that some students come into each meeting and tell the board what the school was really like. I had a turn as one of those students and I recall Muskie saying, “And I want to hear the good and bad in front of everyone, including your headmaster!” Good guy.

6. 1974: A Drink with The Raelettes! (Age 20)
Living in Denver the summer after my college sophomore year, I excitedly went to buy tickets to a Ray Charles show, arriving at the nightclub box office the afternoon of the show, only to learn that it had sold out. Dejected, I could make out the sounds of Ray and his band rehearsing. So, I asked box office guy if I could go in and listen. “Sure,” he said. So, I sidled up to the bar, ordered a draft beer, and took a seat. Ray was breaking in a new drummer and really being a taskmaster. A couple tables away sat the Raelettes, presumably waiting for their turn to rehearse. At one point, one of them caught my eye and said, “What you doin’ sittin’ over there all by yourself, Sugar? Come on over here and keep us company!” Thinking that I might have just stumbled into heaven, I picked up my beer and sat as instructed. They were sweethearts! Next thing I know, box office guy comes over and says, “You’re obviously a true fan. I can squeeze out tickets for you and your friends.” After thanking him, I asked if I could stay for the rest of the rehearsal. He nodded, so I grabbed another beer and continued my hang with the Raelettes. My friends and I returned that night for what might be the best live show I ever saw.

7. 1997: Opening for John Hiatt… Twice (Ages 43 and 52)
I asked John — a Hyde alumni parent — if he would consider doing an on-campus benefit concert on our Woodstock, CT campus for Hyde scholarships. He replied, “On one condition: You open for me.” He even good-naturedly razzed me a bit: “Hey, we all know you’re a jock. But let’s see if you can step out of your comfort zone and take the stage.” So I pulled some students together and we did a rendition of The Band’s “I Don’t Wanna Hang Up My Rock & Roll Shoes.” Then John came out and thanked “‘Blind Lemon Malcolm’ for warmin’ y’all up.” I don’t know how good we actually were, but I’ll never forget that night! (Note: Then we did it all again in Bath in 2006 where then faculty member Matt Newberg’s band backed me on The Band’s “Ophelia.” Yeah, I’m a Band disciple.)

8. 1999: Senator Ted Kennedy (Age 45)
When we were setting up Hyde’s first public charter school in Washington DC, a group of us were having lunch at a high end Capitol Hill restaurant. At one point, I went to the men’s room — actually, more like a men’s lounge where one might hang out. Next thing I know, Senator Kennedy walks in. Thinking I would say something, I took a chance: “Senator Kennedy, you and I have something in common.” He replied, “Oh? And what is that?” I replied, “Fessenden School.” (A Massachusetts junior boarding school we both attended.) He immediately flashed a grin and we proceeded to trade stories. After acknowledging that his party did not support charter schools, he genuinely wanted to know what we were hoping to do in DC. Could not have been friendlier.

9. 2004: Buying Ties with Sidney Poitier (Age 50)
In DC for a fancy dinner, I realized that I had not brought any ties. So, I hit the Filene’s Basement (remember Filene’s Basement?!?) a couple blocks from my hotel. I go to the tie section and notice another guy also checking them out. (Me: Wait, that’s Sidney Poitier!) Then a salesperson comes up to us and asks if he can help. (Apparently, he thought Mr. Poitier and I had come into the store together.) So, there we were. Two guys buying ties. Except, he was Sidney Poitier!

10. 2008: Ballin’ with Magic and Ludacris (Age 54)
Laura and I took our kids to Atlantis in the Bahamas for Spring Break. Looking for a hoops game, I chanced upon an awesome outdoor full court. With a game in process, I called out, “I got next!” Then a familiar face said, “No. This guy here got Next. And you’re after that.” (Me: Wait… That’s Magic Johnson!) So, I just said, “OK.” When I finally get on the court, I’m pinching myself, doubting that my fellow “lunchtime at the Bath Y” hoop buddies will even believe me. At one point, I make a jump shot and Magic says, “Yo, Man. Nice shot!” At that point, I turned to the fellow middle aged dad covering me and said, “I could die today and that would be OK. I mean Magic Johnson just said I had a nice shot.” Then another guy enters the court causing the younger set among us to swoon with awe. I’m told it was Ludacris. (I would never have picked him out of a crowd.) And he had some game. I gathered my stuff and headed back to the condo we were renting where I was like a little kid recounting the story to my kids. At one point, one of my daughters says, “Well, Dad, I don’t know who that Magic guy is, but I cannot believe you left when Ludacris showed up.” Generation gap.

BONUS: 1995: Checkin’ Out the Break with Jack O’Neill and “Wingnut” (Age 41)
On a surfing trip to Santa Cruz, CA, my bro-in-law, nephew, and I spent a day surfing with a local who happened to be a Hyde parent. After a morning spent with this parent showing us all the choice breaks, we hit Pleasure Point, parking in Jack O’Neill’s (a friend of said parent) driveway. (The godfather of the surfing wetsuit, arguably no one besides the Beach Boys has done more to popularize the sport of surfing than Jack O’Neill.) At one point, the man himself came out and said, “Hey.” (That was cool enough, by itself, but read on.) So, we’re looking at the waves, trying to decide if we want to surf there or check out some other spots. I’m casually chatting up this local dude and we’re comparing notes between Cali and East Coast surf. Then my Hyde parent says, “Let me introduce you guys. Robert, this is Malcolm, headmaster at my son’s school. Malcolm, this is Robert Weaver, AKA ‘Wingnut.'” All of a sudden, I’m star-struck. I mean, in preparation for this very trip, we watched and discussed Endless Summer II. And here I was, talking to the star of the movie without even realizing it’s him! Nice guy. He was just doing what all surfers do: checking out the waves, trying to decide if he would enter the water. Except, he was Wingnut.

Onward, Malcolm Gauld