On Friday night, my dad, brother and I went out to dinner to a
somewhat-expensive Italian restaurant in Brentwood. My dad was
paying.
As we began our meal, we noticed the restaurant’s staff
working vigorously to prepare two tables near us. Waiters checked
the tables meticulously, ensuring the clean sparkle in every piece
of silverware and arranging chairs to intersect tables at perfect
90-degree angles. I half-expected them to put on gloves before
handling the wine glasses, to safeguard against fingerprints.
Altogether, it looked like a small-town restaurant preparing for a
big-time client.
And in walked Julie Andrews. Supercalifrajalistic-
expialidocius!
With two friends, she sat at the table prepared for four (the
other was for eight), as they waited for the last member of their
party, who must have been running late, because she showed up about
15 minutes later.
Oh, to be able to keep Mary Poppins waiting.
A few minutes after Andrews walked in, a big group entered the
restaurant and was led to the table set for eight. Complete with
five adults and three kids, the group included Diane Keaton. Well
la-de-da!
I’ll leave it to the likes of Joan Rivers to tell me
exactly what Keaton was wearing, but even though
“Something’s Gotta Give” was shot in focus softer
than her cashmere sweater, she looked good. I’m now the proud
owner of various copies of the restaurant’s business
card.
Later that weekend, I went to the gala opening of “La
Bohème” at the Ahmanson Theatre. Expecting to
exponentially add to my list of celebrity sightings for the
weekend, all I could muster up were Dennis Franz, whom I saw posing
for photographs, and Baz Luhrmann, who directed the production and
took a bow on stage after the performance.
While I would rather run into Andrews and Keaton than Franz and
Luhrmann on any occasion, the extent to which the women outshined
the men was only increased by the contexts in which I saw them.
Seeing Luhrmann bow after a show he directed simply isn’t as
interesting as watching Keaton tell a small child to put down the
parmesan cheese.
This may sound like an obvious point, but from the crowds that
gather around any formal event at which celebrities attend, it may
not be as obvious as it seems. I’m as willing as anyone to
admit that seeing famous people in Los Angeles is fun, but I
don’t understand how it can be an activity, especially a
choreographed one.
Seeing famous people in Los Angeles is fun when it adds to an
experience, but not when it defines one. Sure, it all has to do
with the idea that celebrities are just people, too, but beyond
that, it has to do with the goal of enjoying experiences,
independent of who is or isn’t there.
If that feels a little too preachy, think of it this way: When
you run into a friend unexpectedly, it’s always more exciting
than when you make plans in advance. The same is true for celebrity
sightings, and it’s an idea that a lot of Los Angeles loves
to forget.
I’m not going to say what you should or shouldn’t
do, but don’t think the only way to see celebrities requires
you to forget about a few of your favorite things.
Tracer had great pesto at the restaurant. E-mail him at
jtracer@media.ucla.edu for its name and phone number.