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| The eyes of a Ranger are upon you ... |
This
past Sunday I was lucky enough to score a free pass to the Lexington Comic
& Toy Show. I wasn’t going to go, but I checked the attendee list and one
of the guests was the one and only Mr. Chuck Norris. Of course I grew up with
Chuck Norris—Good Guys Wear Black, The Octagon, Silent Rage and the greatest movie ever made, Lone Wolf McQuade. Frankly, I was giddy about meeting the great
one. The man who doesn’t sleep, he waits. A cobra bit Chuck Norris once. After
three days of agonizing pain, the cobra died. This is the man.
After
a pleasant Sunday drive to Lexington, I entered the con and headed for Chuck’s
booth. The line was crowded but not that bad. I saw him from afar. Walker,
Texas Ranger himself, smiling, shaking hands and signing autographs. From afar
he looked like a young, middle-aged man, as if his 78th birthday
wasn’t the day before (it was). While I waited patiently, I struck up a
conversation with one of his bodyguards, an armed, off-duty Lexington police
officer in full uniform. I asked him about Chuck. He said he had been with
Chuck all weekend, and he had never seen such a kind, involved, enthusiastic
celebrity. Just what you want to hear about your hero.
I
finally had the opportunity to approach Chuck. After a full weekend of being “on,”
mixing with fans and pressing flesh, he looked like he was having the time of
his life. I chose a photo to sign from his assistant, an Invasion U.S.A. photo of Chuck brandishing two Uzis. I stepped up
to him.
“Hi
Mr. Norris, I’m Jerry.”
“Hi
Jerry!” said the man.
He
took my photo, turned it around and started to sign in a tight, readable
script. Chuck would not have prospered in medical school.
“Can
you sign it ‘to Jerry’?” I asked.
His
assistant butted in and told me signature only. Celebrities have different
rules about this—Adam West would only personalize with a specific name, which I
didn’t want at the time. For the man, I wanted the world to know Chuck Norris
signed a photo directly to me. Oh well, that’s life.
I
engaged Chuck. “Lone Wolf McQuade is
my favorite Chuck Norris movie!” I squealed like a 12-year-old schoolgirl meeting
Justin Timberlake. He smiled and said “Oh yeah?” “Yeah!” I replied. “If you
have time I can quote all the dialog from beginning to end,” I joked. He smiled
and handed me my photo.
“It’s
been a total pleasure to meet you, Chuck.” I said. He smiled like a kid and
stuck out his hand. I shook hands with Chuck Norris. Read that suckers! I shook hands with Chuck Norris!
“Tell
your buddy I said hi,” said Chuck.
Without
missing a beat I said, “Thanks, I will!” I walked away holding my photo.
Eventually it occurred to me that I didn’t know what in the world he was
talking about. I racked my brain. What buddy? Was the great one confusing me
with someone else? After thinking about it, I think the noise of the convention
hall messed with Chuck’s hearing a bit. I think he must have thought I told him
Lone Wolf McQuade was my buddy’s
favorite movie. Not sure why I would say that, but he must have thought he
meets all kinds, so what? Anyway, I can now divide my life into two parts—before
I meeting Chuck Norris and after meeting Chuck Norris. This part is definitely better!
And
yes, I realize I only survived the encounter because Chuck Norris let me live.
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