LUCY AND ME

The last time Howard read a bedtime story to Avery, she chose a book about Lucille Ball. How wonderful! While I Love Lucy is iconic to my generation, I wasn’t so sure that Lucy would continue to remain relevant to future generations, timeless as she is. I was wrong. The next day, we showed Avery a few sketches on YouTube—the candy factory scene, Vitameatavegamin, Lucy on the ledge waiting for Superman. After many viewings in our lifetime, Howard and I still cracked up. So did Avery. Although we didn’t go into much explanation of Vitameatavegamin, even at 5 and lacking the boozy context, Avery thought that Lucy was hilarious. A great shared intergenerational experience.

My favorite episodes are the ones with starstruck Lucy. She and I could be sisters in that respect. Yes, I am starstruck. I know that stars are just human, of course, but there’s something larger than life about them. I can’t define it, but there's an appeal that goes beyond the mortal. I don’t know if I got it from Lucy or whether I’d be like that regardless. Nevertheless, when I see a star, an involuntary switch goes on. I don’t generally take full Lucy action—I’ve never pilfered cement footprints; I’ve never set my nose on fire after stalking a star. I just get that wild-eyed Lucy look on my face. That idiotic look got my children a wave from Ronald Reagan, got me into an argument with Howard and Cory over William Shatner, and caused Jeff Goldblum to bolt from an elevator.

We were on vacation in LA when Cory and Tracy were little. We had dinner at Trader Vic’s. As usual, I was the last to get out of our booth. Howard and the kids were way ahead of me. As I stood up, a woman at the next table said to me, “Your children are very well behaved. Did they see Ronald Reagan at the table over there?” She subtly nodded to a table right across from us. Reagan was having dinner with Nancy and another couple. As I stood up, that knee-jerk reaction happened. I knew I had that wild eyed look when I saw Nancy glare at me. I tried to be subtle, though there really is never any subtlety in a situation like this. I practically ran down the aisle and said to Howard in a choked whisper “Ronald Reagan is having dinner over there.” As I pointed to the president, the restaurant manager saw us. He walked over, picked up Tracy, took Cory’s hand, and walked them quietly down the aisle. Reagan gave them a friendly smile and a wave. I don’t know what Nancy did.

Shatner— A couple of years ago, we were in LA again, having New Years Eve dinner with Cory, and his fiancee, Judy. As we left, Cory and Howard walked ahead, while Judy and I strolled behind. She and I saw a man and woman sitting outside the restaurant. As we walked by, I did a double take. “I think that’s William Shatner!” I hissed to Judy. She took a much more subtle look and told me that the woman with him told him “I think that woman recognized you.” Judy and I, in a failed effort to be unobtrusive, did a kind of shuffle/run to catch up to Howard and Cory. They insisted that we move on. I think that Shatner wouldn’t have minded if I’d said a quiet “Hello” and told him that I’d been watching him forever and appreciated his work. I’m sure that he’d heard it before. But, sadly, a missed opportunity. I’m not going to listen to Cory and Howard any more! And I’m relieved that Judy’s okay with a curly haired, wild-eyed mother-in-law.

Jeff Goldblum—Howard and I were in a hotel elevator and saw Jeff Goldblum standing close by. When we reached the lobby, Goldblum bolted. I said to Howard, “He seems to be in a hurry.” Howard responded—“I think that you scared him.” Damn that reflex!

Suffice it to say that Howard was put off when I “ had dinner” with Glenn Ford in an Atlanta restaurant. Actually, I was seated with Howard, and stared at Glenn Ford across the room for most of the meal. And Howard saved Abe Vigoda from my Lucy self when he grabbed me as I reflexively started to chase Mr. Vigoda down a parking garage stairway.

All nice memories—at least for me. Yet the one that is most burnished in my brain is my adventure with Forrest Tucker. I was very young, fresh out of graduate school. One summer morning, as I strolled to work, I saw a man leaning against a building. Nothing exciting. But to my hyper charged brain, he looked like more than your average man. Trying to be subtle, I backed up. Though is there a subtle way of walking backwards, even if it was only a few steps? I looked again, trying to remain impassive. Forrest Tucker! Tucker had a long and notable career, though at the time that I saw him, he was a star in a not-so-great but popular TV show, F Troop. Tucker was tall and handsome. As I looked at him, I thought about what I should say. I came up with an idea—Do Nothing! He was absorbed in something, and I was in a crowd of morning commuters. So I walked on, Lucy-level excited. I had to do something—I’d call Howard! Remember, no cell phones back then, so no instant gratification. I rushed to work in record time. Howard was already at work. Lucky me—he had a pager. I paged him. He was in the elevator. There was a phone in the elevator. I knew that I must have sounded insane. Howard confirmed that. Breathlessly, I told him about Forrest Tucker. He sighed as he went patiently up and down in the elevator while I told my story. Forrest Tucker probably never had a more enthusiastic fan.

I could go on about my Lucy moments. But I think that you get the picture.

As I think about Howard and Avery reading about Lucille Ball, the memories come flooding over me. The times that restraint fell away, and I would get excited about someone who seemed otherworldly. Just little blips on the screen of life, but I smile as I remember the adventures.

MOVIE STARS ARE ORDINARY PEOPLE, BUT TO LUCY AND ME, A SIGHTING WAS ALWAYS AN ADVENTURE