Rubbing shoulders

by Mary Coblentz
This morning I ate breakfast with a group of friends and, after the usual subjects were covered, talk turned to politics. One of my friends mentioned that she shook hands with our now president-elect Barack Obama. This was before he was even a front-runner for the Democratic presidential nomination, but a handshake with Obama is a handshake with Obama. This same friend has shaken hands with Gerald Ford and Jesse Jackson as well.
I have no political shoulder-rubbing or handshaking claims, but last summer, our oldest son had the opportunity to meet former president Bill Clinton. Elias was training for a job and was with a person making a sales call at a school in Kentucky. This was before the Kentucky primary, and Clinton was in town to support his wife, presidential candidate Hillary Clinton.
The school was unusually quiet when Elias and his supervisor walked in, an unexpected situation for a middle school. They wandered around and eventually found the school principal and Clinton (along with several Secret Service people) in the school’s gymnasium. Clinton was touring the school, which was supposed to be off limits to anyone else - our son included.
Before being escorted from the building by the Secret Service, Elias got to speak with Clinton and shake his hand. He’s not a big Clinton supporter, but it was still interesting to meet him.
Clinton, of course, asked if he was going to support Hillary in the primary. He asked Elias how old he was, and then he noticed Elias’ wedding ring.
“Is she good-looking?” Clinton asked (I kid you not).
“Yes, she is,” Elias answered - and wanted to tell him to keep away from his wife, but he thought better of it.
Elias knows a few people who are famous if you care about contemporary Christian music. We have pictures of him with Steve Taylor, Phil Keaggy, and Dave Perkins, to name a few.
For many years, I thought the closest I’d get to a famous person was sitting in the same limo in the same spot that had been recently vacated by Barry Manilow, which happened when I was in high school. Not exactly rubbing shoulders.
I almost met the governor of Iowa once, but I decided not to go to the party thrown by an employer. I thought I was destined never to rub shoulders with anyone famous.
Then, one day a few years ago, I realized that I already had.
I’m not much of a television watcher or much of a movie-goer. I enjoy it, but I just don’t have that much free time at this point in my life. So I had never even seen That ‘70s Show.
One day I was at my parents’ house, and my dad mentioned that the boy who used to ride his bike up to the corner where our house was and turn around by circling the oak tree was famous - starring in That ‘70s Show.
It was Ashton Kutcher, who grew up just down the street from my family (about six houses, I think) in Cedar Rapids. And, not only did he ride in our yard (by this time, I had moved out), but I baby sat him and his twin brother, Michael, when they were about three years old.
If I would have realized he’d be famous, I would have taken a picture or at least paid attention to more details. I do remember that Ashton was a lot bigger than his twin brother. Ashton showed me a photo album of him and his brother in the hospital when they were babies. His brother had some health problems and was hooked up to machines in the pictures. Ashton was very protective of him even at the age of three.
Fortunately (or unfortunately?), by the time I baby sat him, Kutcher was toilet trained, so I have not viewed anything “exclusive.”
Kutcher is in the news a lot right now, helping with fundraising for flooded areas in Cedar Rapids and just generally being rich and famous. He’s even married to a famous person.
And really, it’s not that big of a deal. He’d been famous for several years before I’d even heard of him. But it is kind of cool to see him on television or in a movie and remember that he looked remarkably similar when he was three to how he looks today. And I can say that, instead of rubbing shoulders with someone famous, I’ve had one sit on my lap.