Leo Dicaprio, by Kathy Cooper

A few years back I had surgery for a torn meniscus and was confined to a wheelchair for awhile. My father volunteered to push me around the L.A. museum and I literally jumped at the chance. (Well not literally.)

But that was the day I literally ran into Leonardo DiCaprio with my wheelchair.

Are you familiar with that famous scene of the two star-crossed lovers who are running towards each other in slow motion amidst a beautiful open field of soft yellow and blue poppies as dramatic love music is being played in the background? Well, it wasn’t like that.

It was more like the Teacup ride at Knotts Berry Farm, going round and round as your eyeballs are doing the same thing in their sockets.

I was alone, pushing myself around looking at Picasso’s work and trying to take in a little too much when it all happened. Oh, did I mention that Leo was also in a wheelchair? Yeah he was. I had run into him, but he was the one who kept apologizing. I couldn’t think of anything in response but, “So, what’re you in for?” (meaning the chair.)

He told me that he also had a torn meniscus. By then I knew it was fate that he and I had collided. Immediately I started telling him about the screenplay I had recently been working on. “Yeah, it’s all about this pack-rat guy and that’s the part I wrote for you. That is, if you like the part. But I can change it.”

Immediately my mind was bombarded with childhood memories of wanting to be a movie star. When I came back to reality I instructed myself, “Don’t act like a gawky fan and start drooling. Don’t act stupid and tell him about the screenplay you’re working on.”

Oops. Too late, stupid.

“Are you who I think I am?” was the only thing I could spit out after that. To this he smiled and shook his head affirmatively.

That day, Leo was in a wheelchair, with a torn meniscus, just like me. The only difference was he wore a baseball cap backwards. The truth is we are all alike; even if we are famous. It’s weird, running into a movie star. One might expect them to be something entirely different than us simply because they become so many different characters on the big screen. But truth is they are like us… Wait a minute. Leonardo DiCaprio was wearing a baseball cap backwards and he was pushing himself in a wheelchair. He didn’t have a torn meniscus! Sitting down, slouched over with a cap covering his face?

He was incognito! I believe it was that night that I realized how hard it must be for movie stars to hide their identity. I finally was happy I had changed my career plans and gone into screenwriting.



Disclaimer: Some of the events in the story have been changed to…spruce up the story.

All Shook Up, By Yolanda Adele

In the summer of 1969, it was Elvis Presley’s opening night at what was then The International Hilton Hotel in Las Vegas. It was the first time he had performed in public for more than nine years. According to a Newsweek article dated August 11, 1969, the showroom was filled with 2,200 seats twice each day for four weeks; total attendance reportedly topped 101,509, a new Las Vegas record. The gross receipts were $1,522,635, also a Las Vegas record.

My husband made reservations six months in advance to be there for our seventh wedding anniversary; it was his anniversary gift to me.

The orchestra played the powerful theme from 2001 Space Odyssey to a reverberating crescendo when Elvis finally made his highly anticipated appearance and took command of the stage, wearing a white jump-suit.

The air seemed to fill with electrifying energy and euphoria as the audience stood and applauded with thunderous frenzy.

My husband bribed a couple of waiters and a maitre’d to sit me up front, center stage. I didn’t sit for long. I rose and pressed my body up against the platform as some women from behind me rushed the stage when Elvis teasingly pulled his scarf off his neck to wipe his brow before offering the scarf to his adoring fans.

I raised and waved my hand to plea for the priceless scarf. I screamed out his name. He turned and looked right at me, giving me his trademark, upper lip curled smile, and said “Hold on honey, I’ll get to you.”

One of his body guards pointed a flashlight beam on my burnt orange hot pants (shorts) and matching calypso blouse that I wore, that seemed to cue the lighting technician, because changing color lights washed over me repeatedly before panning the rest of the audience in the auditorium.

Then a single large spot light followed Elvis as he moved nearer to me and knelt down on one knee directly in front of me. I was mesmerized by his sapphire-blue eyes as he sang Love Me Tender. I was sure he was singing just to me. Slowly Elvis leaned foreword to slip his scarf over my head until it reached the back of my neck pulling me closer to him. I stood on my tip-toes, closed my eyes…then he kissed me on the lips softly and tenderly. Women shrilled fervently, but he chose me.

I opened my eyes feeling a bit shook up and disorientated. All sounds seemed muffled before everything went dim and I fell to the ground. I vaguely heard someone say, “She’s fainted, give her some room!” And I remember thinking, “if only Elvis could give me mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.”

That was forty years ago, yet the images of that magical time in my life are vibrant in the recesses of my mind; where I visit from time to time when I need a break from the doldrums and I’m once again feeling vital and All Shook Up.