Meh-story-bro, Kirk Douglas edition:
Probably about 15 years ago, I was at the Palm Springs film festival and had just come out of this black tie gala thing in which Kirk Douglas had been given a lifetime achievement award. I was standing on a walkway looking for someone when I heard a golf cart coming up behind me so I stepped up onto a little curb to get out of the way, and when I turned around it was Kirk being driven to his limo.
He turned and looked me in the eye, kinda just how you look at someone passing by, at which point you typically nod to each other or say hi or something. But for whatever reason he held the gaze just a little longer than is customary, not with any particular intent it seemed, just randomly, but enough so that it made me feel sort of uncomfortably in the cross-hairs, like I was expected to say something meaningful to him.
I'm not typically at a loss for words or particularly starstruck, but just from feeling put on the spot I was suddenly in a split-second panic to say something more than hello, but that panic had blanked my brain. Then I remembered he'd just gotten that award and dumbly blurted out, "Congratulations, Mr. Douglas," and immediately felt like a complete fool. What a goofy and pointless thing to say.
But Kirk gave this slow benevolent nod, closing his eyes, and very softly said "Thank you" in an almost exaggerated show of graciousness. The effect was like the Pope when a devotee kisses his ring — he managed to present himself as humble and grateful yet still coming off as royalty. Quite impressive. At the same time, it really felt like his intent was to help an idiot who said something stupid to not feel like such an idiot by generously playing along.
I remember thinking as he rolled away, daaaamn.
RIP, Mr. Douglas.
