Arts & Entertainment

Patchy Pop Culture: It's in the Genes

Tales from two editors.

Posted by Chris Dehnel. Written by Chris Dehnel and Ted Glanzer and compiled by Ted Glanzer. 

Talent. Some people have it. Most of us don’t (Chris note: hey Ted, speak for yourself).

So for the 99.9 percent of us who have real jobs, we have to settle for tabloid stories of what life is like for the rich and famous.

Occasionally, though, even royalty has to come in contact with the riff raff, sometimes with unfortunate - but hilarious - results.
So this week’s Patchy Pop Culture is what’s your best story of coming in contact with a famous person.

Ted’s Tale

My first inclination would be to talk about how I caddied for Fred Couples at a Greenwich country club just a few months after he won the Master’s in 1992. (Just as an aside - for the 4 hours I was out there, he was nothing but a cool guy.)

But the funniest - and most fortunate - one I have is the time I actually didn’t come in contact with a celebrity, or, stated another way, how I Nearly Killed Gene Wilder.

The scene: I had just graduated from high school in 1989 and I was driving on a notoriously windy road in my hometown of Stamford (holla!). As an aside, I was a notoriously horrendous driver at the time - stupid kid doing stupid things.

Anyway, I probably was driving too fast when I passed by two women who were walking on the side of the road. “Hmmm, that’s strange seeing two people walk on this road,” I thought to myself.

I rounded a hairpin curve only to come face-to-face with Gene Wilder, who was in the middle of the road smiling and walking backward, waving - I think - to the women. There was no question it was him - the bird’s nest hair was a giveaway.

While I was a bad driver on a windy road, I had decent reflexes and swerved to avoid killing the beloved actor. Funny part was, Wilder never broke stride. He just kept walking backward and waving at the women, even though he just had a brush with death - or death in the form of a 17-year-old reckless driver.

My memory is a bit hazy - but I recall this was around the time that Gilda Radner - Wilder’s wife - had died. If I had hit Wilder with my car, I would have been burned at the stake.

Chris’ Take

So a few years back, I was out in Vegas for the Snow Sports Industries America annual trade show and I get this interesting e-mail.
You are cordially invited to attend a reception at the Hard Rock Hotel and casino at which Gene Simmons will unveil his new line of snow sports apparel.

What?

I read it again.

"I just have to go to this."

So I RSVP.

I go the convention, test a few products, went into a wind tunnel with some new outerwear for The Ski Channel and prepared to meet the Kiss frontman that night.

I head into the Hard Rock and check in with the guy in front of this VIP elevator.
Yep. I am on the list.

Get into the elevator, entered this suite and there was Gene.

"How you doing?"

The food was good, there were drinks and I think I was the only real media person there. I took a sample hat with Gene’s "Moneybag" logo on it (a month later the experts at Owl's Head in Quebec said, "Now that's a tuque") and mingled.

Gene made a presentation and I mingled some more. I began talking to one of the rent-a-models because she was a former ski racer and I look to the door.  

"Don't worry baby … I'll get it to him." It was some dude too old for his stringy long hair and leather pants.
He finds Gene and tries to give him a demo CD. "You'll love it … you'll have to listen to it …"

Gene takes it.

About an hour later, I am talking with the ski racer-turned model again and Simmons joins us.

"Mind holding on to this?"

"Not at all."

It's the CD.

I left with it and played it in the car. The guy was trying to apply an opera voice to metal.

I have to laugh. The guy thought that a rock icon was listening to it, but instead it was being made fun of by a wise-guy ski writer.


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