Back when I was producing TV and radio commercials, I had an amusing “brief encounter” with stage and screen actor Herschel Bernardi in the break room of an L.A. recording studio. I looked at him and immediately recognized him (he was there to record the voice of Charlie the Tuna; I was recording a commercial with Jonathan Winters), and he looked back as if he knew me. The ensuing conversation, which I recall perfectly, went like this:

Him to me: Hello. Don’t I know you?
Me: No sir, but I certainly know you. Everybody knows you.
Him: Well, I’m sure not everybody” knows me.
Me: Almost everybody.
Him: I doubt that, but nevertheless, I stll think I know you.
Me: I’m sure you don’t, Mr. Bernardi, but let me introduce myself and tell you how much I admire your work.

I’ll never forget my first meeting and conversation with my two half-sisters and my half-brother.

My autistic brother and I had this conversation.

Me: Jason kills children and the elderly.
Jason: I don’t kill children.
Me: But you do kill the elderly?
Jason: No I don’t. Not with pills at least.
That kid cracks me up.

In the late 60s, some friends and I met a blind poet sitting on a wooden crate on 6th Ave in Manhattan who called himself ‘Moondog’. He had shoulder-length gray hair, wore some freak thing on his head (I can’t recall what), and was selling his poems for maybe $2.00

He said that he had recording contracts, and was friends with Bob Dylan. We rolled our eyes and, feeling sorry for him, bought some of his poetry.

Fast-forward about 35 years. I’m reading Dylan’s autobiography, and sure enough, he mentions performing in Greenwich Village between poetry recitals by Moondog, admiring him, and being very good friends with him. We had the internet by then, and it told me that Moondog indeed had recording contracts, and that several big names had recorded things that he’d written.

He’s not with us anymore, so I’ll just close my eyes and say “It was great meeting you, Moondog”.

“And sorry about those eye-rolls….”

A musician in a satanic black metal band once tried to convert me to Christianity, claiming Jesus saved him from overdosing. That was a weird backstage experience.

While I can’t recall the actual words we said, I do remember how great it was to find some like-minded people working at this small lawn care company I used to work for. Most of the people who worked there were yahoos without a care in the world beyond getting drunk/laid on Friday nights, but three of the guys and I discovered we shared a love of reading and philosophy. We’d be hanging out in this crappy ass trailer/office, and get into these deep conversations…while everyone else made fun of us for it. Good times.

PS: I married one of ‘em. :D

I was 18 and living with several friends in a hotel room at the Circus Circus hotel in Las Vegas. This was the late 80s. It was a terrible time in my life and we were all using drugs. Mostly pot and cocaine. I worked at a gentleman’s club for a short time to pay for the hotel room but it was too much for my innocent mind. I was being harassed by one of the bouncers. He was a disgusting man.

There was a man who frequented the club who happened to be a high class pimp. He provided women for Mike Tyson, among many others. These women would earn $1000 a night. The pimp tried to recruit me.

I called the pimp one day when I was desperate for money and he said he would meet me at the closest McDonalds to talk. I had quit the club and had no money at all. I needed food and a toothbrush. I asked for his help. He told me he would help me but I had to come with him and live at his house with the other girls that live there. He would feed me salads (I had to lose 10 lbs. His clients wouldn’t like a girl that weighed 120 lbs.) He would also give me all the cocaine that I wanted.

I told him I couldn’t do it and I walked away. I called my sister in California and I was on a plane the next day, heading to San Francisco and family that cared for me.

@jonsblond You have come so far from those days. Lurve you.

I was taking our local rapid transit one day. In the free zone a homeless man got on the train and sat across from me and the woman seated beside me. He immediately struck up a conversation with us about the difference in parenting between one province and another and one decade and another. Within 5 minutes he jumped back off the train. My seat mate and I kept talking for the remainder of the trip. As I approached my stop I turned to her and said, “and THAT is why you should never judge a book by its cover. We probably would not have chatted like we did without that gentleman popping in and out of our lives”. I’ll remember that gentleman for the rest of my life.

On a Greyhound bus in 1988 in the middle of nowhere:

“From Germany, oh, interesting. Where?”
“Frankfurt.”
“Do you have cars in Germany?”
“We invented the car.”
Big smile. “You must be kidding.”