Today's MOSTLY TRUE SHORT STORY: Nothing Ventured

F LoBuono

It must have been 1978. I was in graduate school and looking to make some extra money to help in getting by. I would do just about anything to earn an extra buck, including parking cars at a high-end Chinese restaurant in Englewood Cliffs, NJ. It was there that I met a lot of interesting people, including celebrities like Alan Alda (a crappy tipper) and George Benson (a great tipper).

One of the regulars who came to the place seemed to arrive in a different car with every visit. I learned that his name was Jerry McSpirit and the reason he almost always came with a new vehicle was that he was an antique and classic car dealer. He had one of the largest business of that type on the East coast and often supplied vehicles for the movie industry. In fact, he provided most of the vintage cars used in The Godfather and many other classic films.

He was always pleasant and approachable so we became friends. One day, at closing time, I was returning his car key to him while he sat at the bar when he asked me if I would be interested in driving for him one day. He explained that, often, he needed safe drivers to transport some of his vehicles onto the movie sets they were contracted for. To save money, instead of using expensive Car-transporting type trucks, he used reliable neighborhood kids to drive them on location. Seeing the cool cars he always came in with, my response was an unequivocal, SURE!

My first, and only, gig for Jerry was on a movie called The Wanderers. It was set in the the Bronx in the late 1950's and early 60's with the true story based on the rivalry between 2 street gangs - The Wanderers and the Fordham Baldies. If I remember correctly, shooting began in the Bronx that Fall. I was to meet Jerry at his place in Alpine, NJ to pick up the car I was to drive to the set.

My first assignment couldn't have been sweeter - get a suped-up '57 Chevy and take it from Alpine to the Bronx. It was black and silver with a revamped V-8 engine and four-on-the- floor stick. I'll never forget the stares I received while piloting her over the George Washington Bridge and to the set on Fordham Road. Once I got there, I was instructed where to park the car and to wait with the rest of the production crew to move it, if and when, needed. Another time, I had to transport a '59 black Pontiac that I actually got to drive IN the film itself - look for a sleek, black car drive by a Marine recruiting stations in the film - that's me!

Karen Allen

One of the really cool perks was that you got to spend time on the set with the entire crew, including the actors. Well, one day, I was on the line for lunch when I noticed the person in front of me was the actress Karen Allen. It was her first film after her appearance in the legendary comedy Animal House. I simply couldn't believe my eyes. I remember being almost overwhelmed by the fact that I woman I had fantasized about (as many young men do over fetching young actresses) was indeed REAL and was standing right in front of me. She was SO my type in those days! I gathered myself and struck up a simple conversation. I learned that we were about the same age and that she had traveled a lot as kid. The conversation flowed fairly easily but I was far too shy and intimidated at that point to pursue anything more than casual conversation. As much as I wanted to ask her for a date, I simply could not muster the courage.

After that chance encounter, I really don't recall seeing Ms. Allen very much on set anymore. And, I felt like I had missed out on the opportunity of a lifetime: asking your fantasy girl out on a date. Well, being the Taurus that I am (stubborn and steadfast), I simply couldn't let it stand just like that. I had to take my shot. But, how, I wondered? She had virtually disappeared from the set. And, I was a NOBODY. Then, I hatched a plan. I knew where her trailer was. I would write her an inspired invitation to join me at my favorite Chinese restaurant (yes, the same one I met Jerry McSpirit in). I may have been a nobody but I also felt that I could only lose by NOT trying.

So, I sat down to write a note that was so honest, so heartfelt that she couldn't possibly spurn my invitation. I told Ms. Allen what a privilege it was to be in the presence of someone you simply dreamt about but never even fathomed possibly meeting. I loaded my love note with adjectives describing my unworthiness but, at the same time, desire to do good by her. I also explained to her that I was not a deranged fan (although I'm not sure WHY she should believe me) but was just acting on an impulse that if I didn't take the chance, I might always regret it. In hindsight, when I think about that note, I have to admit that I cringe a little - it was SO sappy. But, it was honest and it was the real me.

The next time I drove to the set I sought out her trailer. I was going to hand deliver my love note. When I reached the stairs to the trailer, I hesitated for a moment: was I kidding myself? Wouldn't this now famous woman laugh at some unknown set driver? Well, I steeled myself by thinking, nothing ventured, nothing gained. Besides, the pain of rejection would only last a second. And, what if she actually said, yes? I cautiously mounted the stairs, knocked a few times on the metal door and held my breath waiting for it to open. After a few seconds the door did open. Standing in the entrance was a short, older woman who eyed me with suspicion. Her assistant, I assumed. May I help you?, she asked. I'm looking for Ms. Allen. Is she available?, I inquired. No, she is not, the woman responded. Handing her my note I said, would you be so kind as to give her this? Answering in the affirmative she took the note and then closed the door. It was now out of my hands - literally. All I could do was wait.

Well, I never did hear back from Ms. Allen. No real surprise there - after all, what could she have possibly gained? But, I wonder if she kept that note and looks back on it from time to time. It was so honest, so innocent I hope that, if she does have it, or even remembers it, it makes her smile.

The Wanderers went on the mild success in the theaters but acquired a kind of cult following. I never drove for Jerry again. But, I will ALWAYS at least have the memories . . .

1957 Chevy Bel Aire