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Dirk Benedict: Life in Quasi-ville
This could go on forever. (Hopefully it won't.) I think you get the gist.
So, if perchance I wander into your life, or you into my quasi-one, and you happen to think you know me, please remember, I am a recovering celebroholic. Be gentle. If you must, you simply must, plumb me for some tidbit as to what it is (was) like to be me, try to come up with something I haven't heard before. That would be uplifting and ease the pain of life in the purgatory of Quasiville.
Of course, if you haven't figured it out already, the real answer to all questions from everyone, is really:
I'm not who you think I am. In fact, there are days, when I'm not who I think I am.
One last tidbit: The best story I ever heard with regard to fan interaction was told to me by my dear friend, the late Gloria Swanson (Sunset Boulevard) with whom I starred on Broadway in Butterflies are Free. It went like this:
There was party; at which Ms. Swanson was introduced to a man who became quite upset that she didn't seem to remember him.
Exasperated at her insistence that she had no idea who he was, he said,
"Don't you remember the night we almost met?"
By which question, Ms. Swanson was understandably flummoxed.
He proceeded to illuminate. One evening in New York, this fan had entered an elevator to be told by those on it, "You won't believe who just got off the elevator"
"Who?" he asked.
"Gloria Swanson"
In his mind, this brush with fame was so indelible; he assumed Ms. Swanson must remember it as clearly as he had.
This Swanson vignette, reminds me of the afternoon, while visiting Gloria's New York apartment, there was a knock on the door and Gloria asked me to answer it. Which I did. Only to behold Greta Garbo, sunglasses, floppy hat and all, standing in front of me. Paying a visit to her friend from the days when being a movie star was truly being a Movie Star. (I especially loved their stories about John Gilbert.) I knew better than to tell her what a "fan" I was for, as anyone with an iota of cinematic history knows, Garbo's answer to all such notions was:
"I want to be alone."
Amen, Greta, Amen.
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