The Sunday Memory Drawer - Me and Jon Voight

Here's a little statistic for your morbid curiosity.   I have two first cousins that I have not seen in over thirty years.   I have seen actor Jon Voight five times in that same time frame.  Roll that around in your head for a while.

One of us is stalking the other.  Or maybe it's just weird luck that I keep running into this guy, especially since he's originally from Yonkers, New York and went to high school at Stepinac in White Plains.  The coincidences are just plain strange.

The very first time was a flight I took to LA from NY before I was living on the West Coast,   For a reason that probably had everything to do with getting a cheaper air fare, I had to switch planes in Chicago.  And, in those days prior to me having "Million Mile" status with American Airlines, I had to wait patiently around the gate for my row to be called for boarding.  I was blankly staring at some terminal screen when a voice approached me from the left.

"Did they call 'Group 3' yet?"

God, I hate to be disturbed when I am blankly staring at some terminal screen.  So I was curt.   And said "no."  But there was something about the voice that was recognizable.   I turned to look.  It was him.  My face must have displayed a hint of recognition.  He smiled.

"I hate not getting a non-stop.  It's just another way for weather to delay your flight."

Oddly enough, they called our group at the same time.   Jon and I continued our small talky dialogue all the way down the jetway.   A flight attendant recognized him.   

Yes, Ma'am, this is Jon Voight.  And, yes, I know him.   Well, at least for the last 43 seconds.

I thought about mentioning Yonkers and the possibility that we might have shared the same dry cleaners.  But Len resorted to his usual stance when he runs into celebrities.  I don't really acknowledge and rarely make a fuss.   We parted company.  There was no suggestion to get together for lunch.

Calendar pages flying off and it is now several years later.   I have moved to Los Angeles.  I am at what used to be called the Avco Embassy movie theater in Westwood.  It is now called the iPic.  There are two pre-movie concession lines.  I am looking for a box of Goobers.  Again, the voice approaches me, this time from the right.

"Extra butter on my popcorn."

Yep, the Midnight Cowboy was back.    Hmmm, what are the odds that I would run into this guy twice??

Little did I know.

A while later, I am on a checkout line at Ralph's Supermarket in Westwood.   I am flipping through a copy of The National Enquirer which I naturally will not buy.  By now, I know the voice like I know my own.

"Where do you get your parking validated?"

He was directing the question to the checkout cashier next door, but he certainly could have asked me.   After all, aren't we friends by now?

Wait, there's more.

I was on a business trip flying American from LAX to JFK.   I had enjoyed an upgrade to first class, but it was a morning flight so I was still too groggy to make note of the passengers around me.   In my travels, I had previously flown in the front of the plane with the likes of Molly Shannon, Rob Reiner, Carson Kressley from that "Queer Eye" TV show (PS, he had bad body odor), the late Robert Pastorelli, and, of all folks, the late Geraldine Ferraro.  On this voyage, I noticed no one.

Until I was standing at baggage claim in JFK.  I looked up and HE was standing across from me, engrossed in his Black Berry.  

Okay, this is now getting ridiculous.

My fifth encounter happened just a year or so ago.  There is a bakery/sandwich shop near my apartment called "Clementine's."   The food is pretty nifty.   They have a BLT sandwich that I crave.  I went to the counter and placed my order.  I patiently waited for my sandwich and then I hear the voice.  In front of the display for the baked goods.

"IS THAT A BLUEBERRY SCONE?"

Yep, it was him.   And, this time, he was shouting to be noticed.   Or maybe he's just grown hard of hearing because it's probably 25 years since we first met.

"THAT BANANA MUFFIN.  DOES THAT HAVE NUTS IN IT??"

Yes, now everybody within a five mile radius knows it's you.  Most times, I refrained from saying something to him because I wanted to respect his privacy.  Now I didn't want to say anything for fear that the counter staff would think he and I were friends.

I can't wait for the next time he and I are together.   Or maybe I'll just be proactive and get a restraining order.

Meanwhile, speaking of Rob Reiner, I have had a similar experience with him and his dad, which I will describe on a future Sunday.

Dinner last night:  Bockwurst, kraut salad, and pickled beets.