George Kennedy from Airplane!, Dallas and Naked Gun 2 1/2 fame (among lesser-known films) bought chocolate bars from my sister and me. In the 1990s.Yep, I sold my track team's candy bars to actor George Kennedy alongside my little sister.
You don't know him until you seem him, he's the guy who made a serious (failed) movie...then spoofed himself years later. That's cool in my book. (As well as a bunch of other popular stuff.)
My sister and I were -- unbeknown to us at the time -- temporarily living in a fancy neighborhood in the Channel Islands Harbor area of Oxnard, California. Looking back as an adult ... my dad's pretty sweet boat on the dock behind our house should've tipped us off that we weren't living in a normal situation.
But he was our track team coach. And one hell of a crazy-ass coach. In life and track.
Plus, I was from Colorado and my little 'sis was from Texas (we moved a lot.). So we had a motherlode of candy bars to sell to prove our worth to the current team.
So onward we went.
Three blocks and five doors away, a beautiful blonde woman opened the door and just blindly handed us money. I noticed there was a fairly large tree planted in the foyer behind her and thought it was cool. But she didn't know we were from the neighborhood, so quickly closed the door.
Honestly, I didn't know I was from the neighborhood either, so didn't blame her.
Three doors down was a maid in uniform who said, "No, gracias." and closed the door.
Then two doors down from there, a balding guy seemed amused, but wouldn't buy a candy bar until I told him what I did in "track & field". Seemed like a fair question. I told him that I ran the mile, the half-mile, threw shot-put, and did the long-jump. ...So obviously this grown man challenged that I couldn't jump over his approximately 6-foot long flower bed without squishing one of his flowers.
Ahem. No pressure.
I kicked that guy's ass in that bet, and I was a fifth-grader. I'm pretty certain my sister did too.
All I know is he bought four candybars for our track & field team, thanks very much.
Next door, 'ding-dong,' No dice. Same with the next.
My sister and I got to know the neighborhood in the span of a couple hours. Maybe that's why our dad sent us out there on this trek at a tender age: to learn privileged people are kinda douchebags. (In the age when children were rarely kidnapped and there was no Amber Alert.)
Next, my sister and I held our little awkward box of candybars out and rang a doorbell similar to our own. But with a little more stucco around the door-frame, and less of a front gate.
The door creeked open after a very uneasy period of time, and suddenly, our next guy appeared.
"We're selling candy bars to help support our track team," we said (kinda) in unison.
A grumpy looking face eventually smiled, then said something like "hold on a sec". He walked away with the door half-shut.
And as we stared back and forth at each other and the door for an eternity, I realized I'd seen him somewhere else. I whispered to my little sister that I thought he was in a movie or something. She said, "No way."
"No, seriously, I think he's a movie star."
When he came back to the door, he handed us four dollars. "I don't want the chocolate, just keep it for yourselves."
And no matter how sweet the sentiment, I had to blurt out (as any fifth-grader does), "Are you a movie star?"
"Yes."
And the door closed.
We went on, and did pretty well in the regional selling of candybars.
It wasn't until months later that our older sister Amy unfathomably guessed who the man was after much questioning: It was George Kennedy.
The next year, we intrepidly went back to his house, almost tip-toeing. And there was a shiny new "NO SOLICITING" sign above the doorbell.
Apparently I screwed up.
But he didn't. He was totally nice the previous year. (And I got to eat chocolate instead of just sell it.)
Just that once.
Airplane!
"We may not have that kind of time, Ted." ... "Sex, Frank?"
And maybe the best worst movie ever, until recently, with all the talk of drones... (George Kennedy is the very alert, but likely not skillful pilot, since he should be looking at instruments, not out the front window of the cockpit.)