scaramouche

...born with the gift of laughter and a sense that the world was mad.

My dinner with Paul: I am saddened to hear of the passing of Paul Newman. Although, unlike me, he was a lifelong lefty (my leftiness having ended not long after 9/11), he was a truly decent, philanthropic man—a mensch, as we of the tribe would say. For my money, he was also the sexiest blonde Hollywood male star ever, with a killer smirk and those famous, fabulous blue eyes. I had occasion to see them up close once when, some years ago (in a previous life) I was sent with a friend to New York City on business. It was the first time in NYC for both of us, and on our very first night we decided to go to an Italian restaurant that had opened not long before on the Upper East Side; I had read about it in the New York Times. Upon arriving—without a reservation, I might add—we were greeted by a gentlemen we assumed was the Maitre d’.  He smiled and ushered us inside, then, stopping suddenly, he turned to face us and said, “No, I don’t think I'll seat you here. I’m going to put you next to Paul Newman.” We looked at each other as if to say, “Yeah, right, you do that.” But sure enough, that’s exactly what he did. So there we were, our first evening in New York City, eating dinner not more that eight inches or so away from Newman, his wife Joanne Woodward, their daughter, and their daughter’s male friend. Needless to say I have no recollection of what I ate that night since I WAS SITTING BESIDE FREAKIN’ PAUL NEWMAN. I do remember, though, that at one point my friend nudged me under the table and whispered excitedly, “Look, they’re sharing dessert!” I looked, and indeed they were.

After the Newman party had left and our dinner was winding down, the Maitre d’, who turned out to be the restaurant owner, came by to chat. It believe it was the first year that the Toronto Blue Jays had made it to the playoffs, and back then I was a rabid baseball fan. Turns out so was the owner, who was originally from, of all places, Buffalo. Seems he had owned a restaurant there when Robert Redford was in town filming baseball-themed flick, The Natural. When the owner opened his place in Manhattan, “Bob” told his friend Paul about it—the reason the Newmans had dropped by for a meal. The owner then treated us both to dessert and brandy—but that’s a story for another time.

Update: Let's not forget that immortal line from Adam Sandler's "Hanukkah Song": "Paul Newman's half Jewish; Goldie Hawn's half, too/Put them together, what a fine lookin' Jew."

posted by: scaramouche at 17:34 | link | comments (4) |

Comments:

#1  27 September 2008 - 20:24

 

A truly accomplished, modest and elegant man.

RIP, Mr. Newman.

Mo'nonymous

#2  27 September 2008 - 21:25

 

"Elegant"--perfect adjective. "Classy," too.

scaramouche

#3  28 September 2008 - 00:13

 

You know he was my favorite. I was driving when I heard, & nearly had to pull over.

Mo'nonymous

#4  28 September 2008 - 00:40

 

Steve McQueen was pretty hot, too.

scaramouche

Comments: