THE DAY I SCARED HITCHCOCK
It's something I've only done twice; an uncontrollable scream, not of terror, but a scream like a 14-year-old girl seeing the Beatles live.
The first time was on a family vacation. We were in S.F., driving near Candlestick Park. I looked to my right and saw a new Cadillac. Looking more closely I saw two black men in the front seat, and the one in the passenger seat looked just like Willie Mays. Then I saw the uniforms. Hanging on that hook over the back door on the passenger side were two baseball uniforms. S.F. Giants uniforms. The S.F. Giants uniform facing me said "Mays." The driver is McCovey and the passenger is Willie Mays.
Before I could stop myself I screamed, "AAAAGGHH!"
My Dad almost leap out of the car. "You almost got us killed! Don't EVER do that again!"
"Mays! McCovey! The Cadillac!" was all I could get out, pointing at the car, which was taking the Candlestick Park exit.
"Just because it's two black men in a Cadillac doesn't mean that it' s Willie Mays and Willie McCovey," my father chided.
"There's Giants uniforms in the car!" I protest, pointing at the back end of the disappearing car.
"Just don't ever do that again!" Dad warned. I obeyed; for about a decade.
The second time was on I-205 in L.A. in the late '70's. I was driving late one morning in my yellow 1970 Datsun 510 from Venice to an interview at Warner Bros. in Burbank. I'm in the middle lane, northbound, deep in thought. In my peripheral vision I notice a vintage Lincoln limo in the lane to my right. Checking out the car I noticed a figure in the back seat. It looked like Alfred Hitchcock.
My first thought was that it was one of Madame Tussaud's wax figures; it had that almost-real look. Great idea, I thought, they're moving the Hitchcock figure and rented an old luxury car to move the great director's likeness!
Now I'm looking forward again and something catches my peripheral vision. I look to my right and I see the wax statue move! Almighty God, it actually IS Alfred %$#@-ing Hitchcock!
"AAAAGGHH!" (it happens again).
The great director must have seen my movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned to his left to look me straight in the eye. That was too much.
"AAAAGGHH!" (it was Hitchcock, for God's sake; I felt he deserved two screams, the second one directly at Hitch)
His eyes instantly became the size of dollar-pancakes. His face had the exact look of terror that Janet Leigh had when the shower opens in "Psycho." He was scared shitless! I saw him shout instructions to his driver and pull the privacy curtain on the limo closed (this was in the days before tinted glass).
Still in "I-don't-know-what-I'm-doing" mode, I dropped behind the Hitchcock limo in my Datsun and began following it. What was I going to do?
The right turn signal on the limo began to blink, and I looked up. The Universal City exit was coming up. Of course! He's on his way to the Universal lot! I figured I should go with the limo to Universal: I won't get past the front gate, but at least I can tell my friends back home that I saw Alfred Hitchcock get out of a limo.
Now I'm behind the limo, turn signal blinking as well. At the last possible moment, the limo jumped lanes to the left, back on I-205, and by the time I saw what had happened, it was too late for me to get off the off-ramp. Hitchcock and limo sailed north on the freeway, and I got to the top of the off-ramp and went back down again onto the freeway.
Hitchcock died a year or so later. It only occurred to me recently that most people don't have a Hitchcock story, much less one where they cause the creator of "Vertigo" and "To Catch A Thief" to lose it. I've since had a recurring fantasy where the director is lying in bed, about to expire. Someone attending to Sir Alfred hears him utter a phrase just before he dies, a la "Citizen Kane," that doesn't make sense. All they can make out before Hitchcock passes away is two words; "Yellow Datsun."