L.A.: Part Two

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mentioned yesterday that my teen-age daughter expected to see movie and TV stars everywhere when we visited L.A. a few years back. We did get to see Drew Carey on a pre-arranged visit to a movie set but there were no random sightings on the trip.

Over the years I have had some random sightings. A few of the stars were from what they call "yesteryear," but it was a thrill for me anyway.

One night in a Beverly Hills bistro, I sat across the way from Esther Williams and Fernando Lamas. I was indifferent to being in Lamas' company but seeing Esther Williams was another story.

I had grown up in the heyday of her Hollywood career and she was one of those fantasy women on the screen, unique in that she was the only one to swim her way to fame.

On the night I saw her at the restaurant, she was probably in her 60s but still looked gorgeous. In fact, last time I looked, she was about 80 and still looks great.

L.A. is probably the only place on earth where you can see someone who looks like a celebrity and when you pass by, you discover it is the celebrity you were thinking about.

It happened on a trip when my younger son was 13. We were driving through Beverly Hills on a quiet Sunday morning and saw a bald-headed man jogging down the street. I said that he looked like Carl Reiner and as we drove by, we saw that it was.

One of my favorite L.A. stories was told by a colleague who went to work here back in the mid-1970s. He put up at the Beverly Wilshire Hotel and each evening would stop by for a cocktail at the hotel bar.

He got to chatting with a man who frequented the bar and after a while, the man asked why my friend was in L.A. He explained about his new job in town with our company and got to talking about his former aspiration to be an actor.

"I wanted to be an actor very much," he said. "But I gave it up after a bit because I thought there were too many weird people in that line of work."

"Really?" the man replied.

"By the way," my colleague said, "what do you do?"

"I'm one of those weird people," he said.

"You're an actor?" my friend said. "I thought you looked familiar. Have you been in anything I might have seen?"

"Possibly," the man said."

"What's your name?" my friend asked.

"Alec Guinness," the man replied.

When I heard the story, I asked my colleague how it was possible he didn't recognize one of the world's great actors.

"I don't know," he said. "He was just a guy in a bar."

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