William Shatner, Pam Grier, and the alternate IT!






and I got yelled at by the usher just for taking this picture
Within the past couple of weeks I had a couple of notable celebrity encounters - sort of. On Sunday, March 11, Monica Tiki Goddess and I caught William Shatner's one-man show, Shatner's World (We Just Live in It) , at the Orpheum Theater in San Francisco. Since I couldn't afford the high price VIP ticket which would've allowed us backstage access and a chance to meet the man himself, I left without scoring an autograph. But as the creator of SHATFEST, I figured I had to make an appearance. The show itself did not disappoint - Shatner (who turns 81 this March 22) is still a cosmic ball of energy, regaling the packed house with sundry stories both personal and professional, spanning the scope of his life and career, where truly no man has gone before, or ever will again. Even though I felt let down I didn't have the opportunity to shake his hand and tell him about Shatfest in person, we did achieve another goal: dinner beforehand at the newly refurbished Original Joe's Restaurant, now relocated to North Beach since the original location in the Tenderloin burned down a few years ago. It's still a legendary landmark and a highly recommended destination. In fact, I recommend all the "Original" Joe's around the Bay, from San Jose to Marin, which, despite their declarations to the contrary, all boast the same basic menu, decor and old school Italian ambiance. The martinis and pasta are good at all of 'em.




And last Saturday, March 17 - St. Patrick's Day, incidentally - Monica and I again made the trek across the Bay Bridge, this time to actually meet the great Pam Grier in the flesh, the subject of a spectacular stage tribute at the Castro Theater, produced and hosted by the only woman man enough to handle her, local (and international) drag icon Peaches Christ. Pam is still as sassy, sexy, and smart as ever, ingratiating herself to the huge crowd with her passion, wit, and social savvy. When I finally got to shake her hand up in the mezzanine after the show, I told her what a great lady she was, and what an honor it was to meet her, and she was extremely gracious, warm, humble and appreciative. Once again, however, due to a strict managerial policy against taking personal photographs with the luscious lady herself, apparently due to the length of the line, I wasn't able to realize my dream of preserving myself into a picture with her, but Pam did suggest and allow Monica, wearing her mother's foxy 1970s coat, to poke her head into a quick shot as she signed her autobiography and a sizzling 8x10 still from that night's movie (Jack Hill's 1973 blaxploitation masterpiece Coffy ), over the obviously displeased manager's objections. The resulting photo tells it all. All in all, a star-studded week to remember. Cheers.

Published on March 21, 2012 00:42
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