We're back! It's been hotter than hot (or Hell) lately, as if anyone needs to be reminded of the brutally scalding weather. So, let's take this opportunity to cool things down a bit, or (how shall I put it?) to "blow off some steam," by recapping, editorializing, revisiting, and/or commenting on all things to all folks. Namely, people watching!
Star GazingNew York City, especially Midtown Manhattan, is a place like no other. You don't have to walk far before something or someone catches your eye, or a familiar face passes you by. That's the beauty of the "City that never sleeps": You never know who you're going to meet up with.
Having resided in the Big Apple for, oh, 37 or so years - and having visited the place several times thereafter - I can state, categorically, that I still get excited every time some TV or movie personality, or an opera star or two, crosses my path. It's the nature of the beast, I guess.
Anyway, here's a partial recollection of some of the more well known (and not so well known) individuals my ever watchful gaze have come across.
No Singing, PleaseI once ran into Spanish tenor Alfredo Kraus at the New York Coliseum, during the annual Automobile Show. I even shook Kraus' hand, and tried to chat with him in my (then) broken Spanish. Over at Lincoln Center, I spotted Puerto Rican bass-baritone Justino Diaz (a giant of a man), who smiled when I waved to him. Another big basso, the Finnish artist Martii Talvela, had also passed me by. Man, talk about tall! Talvela was the Empire State skyscraper compared to Señor Diaz's Chrysler Building. And lastly, ex-maestro of the Metropolitan Opera House, James Levine, had just come out of rehearsal. How did I know that? Well, that's because his ever-present towel was still wrapped about his shoulder.
Oftentimes, an indirect relationship with operatic celebrities can be established at inopportune moments. Take, for instance, the time I was a fresh-faced salesperson for an investment firm. In my sales pitch to senior citizen Georgette Harnick, a former Manhattan neighbor of mine, I learned that Georgette was a first cousin to a certain Belle Silverman. Well, then, it turned out that Belle Silverman was, in fact, a star coloratura soprano with the New York City Opera, later the Metropolitan Opera. Belle was better known by her stage name, Beverly Sills, whose nickname happened to be "Bubbles." Let the champagne bottles pop!
Sports figures and individuals from everyday life (but not everyday people) were a dime a dozen. And walking with co-workers proved useful to my casual star gazing. During a late morning break, I had the occasion to be ambling along East 53 rd Street when my friend Jean spotted former Secretary of State Henry Kissinger speaking to a colleague as they passed by. Jean had the gumption to actually shout at him, "Oh, Dr. Kissinger, hello!" And guess what? The good doctor answered back: "How are you, my dear?" Now, wasn't that nice of him?
I've encountered other celebrities, among them pop artist Andy Warhol, in a white fright wig and jet black hair with matching black suit. As tall as he was thin, Warhol dashed out of a taxi cab to meet up with a friend. Both of them quickly disappeared into the building I had just that moment exited from. Another artist, late of the old TV series Sea Hunt, was Lloyd Bridges. Where do they get these super tall actors from, anyway? A mop of flaming red hair topped his noggin, along with his bushy red eyebrows. He, too, was in the midst of what might have been a fascinating conversation with a friend, had I been privileged to hear it.
A not-so-animated Rocky Graziano, an ex-middleweight boxing champ, was spotted by me outside a barber shop in Little Italy. Small of stature and looking nondescript, Mr. Graziano was sitting in a chair which he leaned precariously against the barber shop's wall. I saw, I smiled. He smiled back, but I did not conquer. Little Rocky quickly got up from his seat and went back inside the shop. Maybe he forgot to tip the barber...
In line with other sports personalities, the building I used to work at, along Broadway and West 55 th Street, housed the headquarters for the New York Knicks basketball team. Luckily for me, during my regular lunch-break walk I managed to catch a fleeting glimpse of Dick Barnett, Earl "The Pearl" Monroe, Jerry Lucas, Phil "Traction" Jackson, and others whose names escape me. Did I mention that I never got to spot Walt "Clyde" Frazier or the inimitable Willis Reed? I should be thankful for small favors.
Not as well-known as the above figures, one of my former company's loan borrowers was a fellow named John Rodriguez. Mr. Rodriguez came often to the office to pay his bill. On one occasion, I took his counter payment and noticed, on his ledger card, that a co-worker had scribbled the name "Johnny Rodz" on the back. For those not in the know, "Johnny Rodz" was the pseudonym for the professional wrestler of that name. For a pro wrestler, Mr. Rodriguez was not the tallest of athletes. But he most certainly was wide - and muscularly built. His shoulders alone were twice the width of my own. Thank goodness I never had to call on him for money. Happily, Mr. Rodriguez - oh, pardon me, Johnny Rodz - never missed a payment.
Speaking of name dropping, the various company's I once worked for (from the credit card, financial, and/or lending and borrowing industries) had their own list of star-studded clients. Among the many were Tracey Lynn Knievel (stuntman Evel Knievel's daughter), former First Lady Betty Ford, Met Opera singer Shirley Love, the actress and former Princess of Monaco Grace Kelly (a friend of mine, who spoke French, had to contact the American Consulate in Monaco for details concerning her untimely passing), actress Brenda Vaccaro, ex-stuntman and actor Burt Reynolds (I'm told he ordered lots of vitamins), and the iconic "Godfather of Soul" himself, Mr. James Brown.
James Brown was a particularly memorable encounter. His name popped up on our financial company's list of recalcitrant debtors. I, myself, never got to speak directly with Mr. Brown. However, Michelle, a young lady from our group, did get to contact him at his home. She asked Mr. Brown about his account and inquired if he could take care of the past due. Never at a loss for words, Brown responded in typical fashion: "I don't know nothin' 'bout that. You have to call my manager." Which our young lady did. HUH!!!
Other familiar faces included that of actor Bruce Willis, who my wife, mother-in-law and I caught shopping for a harmonica(?) at a West Side music store. Another famous (or infamous) form belonged to that of actor-comedian Robin Williams, who my daughter pointed out to me as he was about to cross a Greenwich Village street, accompanied by his massive, dreadlocked Jamaican bodyguard. "Hello, Mr. Williams!" I shouted at him. "Hey, bro, how are you?" Williams mumbled back at me. I can safely report that, size wise, Robin Williams was about as wide as he was stocky.
Familiar Faces on the MarchI wasn't the only one who experienced these sightings. My late Uncle Daniel used to be an owner/operator of a yellow cab in the Big Apple. It being the heart of New York City, Uncle Daniel would often pick up and drop off passengers with familiar faces. One of them turned out to be Larry Hagman, the co-star in the TV series I Dream of Jeanie, and as the despicable J.R. Ewing in the popular Dallas primetime soap opera. According to my uncle, Mr. Hagman wore dark sunglasses but was minus his trademark cowboy hat. Uncle Daniel also picked up CBS-TV newsman Walter Cronkite in his back seat. For a newsman, Mr. Cronkite was not as loquacious as Mr. Hagman had been. Go figure.
Does anyone remember Metromedia Channel 5 comedian and television personality Sandy Becker? He was another of my uncle's passengers. I can vouch for that one, too! I once caught a closeup glimpse of Mr. Becker walking along Sixth Avenue in a strikingly all-white, double-breasted suit and pink shirt, with a red pocket kerchief. Becker was a sight to behold! As was Sonny Fox, another popular New York personality ( Wonderama, Let's Have Fun). The list of familiar faces came fast and furious.
There were times when my infrequent incursions into the theater, jazz-pop, or cinematic domains would lead to correspondence with, or actually speaking to, many artists in their respective fields. Among the plethora of individuals I have contacted, spoke to, and/or been in touch with over the years were Tony Award-winning choreographer Bill T. Jones, Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright Lynn Nottage, producers Stephen C. Byrd and Alia Jones-Harvey, café owner Jean-Claude Baker (adopted son of entertainer Josephine Baker), Brazilian film director Carlos "Cacá" Diegues, jazz drummer Buddy Deppenschmidt, and producer/director, actress Susana Moraes (daughter of lyricist, songwriter, musician, poet, singer Vinicius de Moraes).
Those star gazing moments have come and gone. Unless, of course, you just happen to live close by to a celebrity, or you befriend one of them, which this author has. I have met up with my old friend Gerald Thomas on several occasions, both in New York City and in Brazil. I still correspond with Gerry whenever he's around, or of a mind to chat. He and I were both born in July, so we share the astrological sign of Cancer. We are also the same age. And we share a similar passion for theater, opera, film, and for writing. He's sent me a minor library of his personally penned books, memoirs, and collective artworks, all of them fascinatingly realized and soulfully expressed, for the most part, in what can only be described as "Gerald-speak."
I am happy to report that Gerald and I have remained friends for going on two decades. So let me "sign off" with this little message: "May the Force of verbal and written hemorrhaging be with you, Gerry - always and unexpurgated."
(To be continued....)
Copyright © 2024 by Josmar F. Lopes
