I once brought a friend to the L.A. area with me and the only celebrity we ran into was Neil Patrick Harris. I didn’t think much of the encounter because his career was post Doogie Howser, M.D. and pre- How I Met Your Mother, so he wasn’t exactly on anyone’s radar at that moment.
In fact, I don’t think anyone else at the Johnny Rocket’s on Melrose even knew who he was. The only reason we did is because NPH is from Albuquerque, the very place we were visiting SoCal from. We both found it funny the only celeb we saw in five days in and around Hollywood was someone from back home.
Whenever my love and I head to L.A., we always get tickets for one of the improv shows at the Upright Citizens Brigade Theater. It is by far the best $5-$8 ticket in town and it gives us the excuse to have an early dinner near the venue. Hence, late yesterday afternoon we headed to Franklin & Company and ate and drank our fill before the show, but when we were done, we still had about 30-40 minutes to kill. So we decided to get some supplies – bottled water and the like – at the nearby Gelson’s supermarket and walk it all back to the rental car.
I elbowed my love and gestured in that “don’t look now or too quickly” fashion only couples and others who are close seem to share. (It’s like a kind of telepathy, really.) He was the very picture of nonchalance when he took a discreet look and nodded at me to confirm that yes, it was indeed Ron Perlman, right there in the flesh.
Neither of us approached the man, but we did have that “oh-my-god-oh-my-god-oh-my-god” moment with each other. I love the man’s work, and though I haven’t watched Sons of Anarchy, I have tuned in to many terrible movies just because he was listed in the credits. (Acts of Violence, anyone?)
Once in the parking lot and safely out of earshot, my love turned to me with a sudden realization:
“Holy crap – I’m taller than Hellboy!”
We dropped our bags off at the car and headed back toward the theater. As we crossed the street, I noticed a small crowd had gathered near the door to one of the restaurant/bars, so I scanned for an opening to pass through … and looked right into Steven Tyler’s face.
Yep. Two major celebrity encounters in less than 15 minutes. My charmed life, right?
We walked on by – Tyler hasn’t really been on my list of “WOW” for a couple of decades – but it was neat to see him in person. He is one tall, lanky dude, too.
We checked in for the show and I immediately texted my sister, who is a HUGE Steven Tyler fan. Not to gloat, but to let her know it’s possible to have encounters like this just a few miles from her own front door. Of course, you have to be willing to leave the house and head into unfamiliar neighborhoods in the Hollywood Hills, but I digress …
When I looked up from my phone, I noticed there were three very pretty motorcycles parked on the street right in front of where we were standing. I told my love I just knew Tyler was on one of them, and sure enough, he and his two companions – one of whom I recognized but still can’t place – each made their way to a bike and off they went.
I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me to pull out my phone and video record the entire experience, but I did manage to get off one decent photo of Tyler before he took off into traffic.
Truthfully, though, I’d rather run into Neil Patrick Harris again.
Yeah, I said it.