Connor 'The Highlander' MacLeod.
George W. Bush.
The Media Guy.
What do these characters have in common? They’ve all had relationships with the ageless Diane Lane. (Yes I know, some more brief than others).
For a woman who was born to October 1957 Playboy centerfold Colleen Farrington, it’s no wonder that Ms. Lane possesses a smoldering provocativeness that perfectly complements her remarkable intricacy as an actress.
If she's not The-Hottest-Woman-Over-40-in-Hollywood (as my colleagues have suggested), she's in the running. Her expression is usually that of a lady in waiting; regal, yet playful. She looks into your eyes and welcomes you like a big warm hug. It's a tie as to which she enjoys more -- smiling or laughing. It's hard to say what interests her, but when you are next to her, you definitely think it’s you.
Because of the fascinating improbability of my job, I find myself in random situations that transcend the normal. I’m no name dropper, but I’ve rubbed elbows with some incredibly famous folk.
I’ve had some “pinch me” moments including a dance with Pia Zadora at a Johnny Rivers concert, chalk talk with Lyle Alzado, tea with Harry Connick Jr. at the St. Regis, chalk-talk with Magic Johnson and multiple “bro” hugs from Matthew McConaughey while chatting about a tidy chip-in from 45 yards out. I’ve also babysat Yasmine Bleeth during a glorious 70’s-throwback weekend in 1997 Las Vegas. (Yes, I think the court records are still suppressed.)
It all makes for fun fodder with the guys and is definitely a perk they don’t tell you about at the school of communications, but nothing was better than the morning with Diane Lane at a West L.A. dog park.
Pour the wine. Dim the lights. Pop a sedative. And dig in because the dog park is quite a scene on Saturdays. I got roped into this helping a friend out. I wore my worst shoes and walked two miles because animal hair in the car is not something I wish on anyone. Today the crowd is sparse and the first newbie to stroll in is the Desperate Housewife #1, wearing a dress that makes her look like a cake topper. Desperate Housewife #2 is Susan, wearing an orange Happy Birthday button from Disneyland. How do I know her name is Susan? Because she spends the next 10 minutes telling me her husband is away on her birthday visiting his ailing mom in Ohio. She’s pretty upset and shaping up to be today’s crazee. Moments later, the bitchy birthday girl hooks up with Desperate Housewife #3, Jackie, who also has man issues. Luckily, I wasn’t having a good hair day so Jackie ignored me and they left to [allegedly] drown their sorrows at some local dive.
And then it happened. Enter -- stage left -- Diane Lane. Replete with green sweater and a sparkling smile she settled in near me soaking in the Los Angeles sun. I steered clear of asking her details of Jon Bon Jovi’s breakup details in his 2010 book and stuck to small talk as she leaked a little about the prior night’s dinner with Spanish peppers sautéed in olive oil brought all the way from New York.
Other things I learned during my ‘Must Love Dogs’ afternoon:
- One, if you make an appointment with a famous design house in Paris (or really any showroom anywhere), be on time. Better yet, be early. She says they really like that.
- Two, if you have the good fortune of Jean Paul Gaultier popping over to say hello, act cool.
- Three, be confident. Walk into the Comme des Garcons showroom knowing that you WILL walk out with an order.
- Four, she’s in love with her husband. BIG TIME.
- Five, she loves a good stogie occasionally.
At the end of my Torpedo I headed back to drop off the pooch now that work called to me; creative work that demanded genius.
