The other day Reagan called me, said the standard hello pleasantries and then abruptly stopped and in a solemn, concerning tone said, "I really need to talk to you in person." Of course I would meet with him and I offered lunch on Saturday. Reagan said that was not soon enough and could we meet for a drink after work the next day. My mind raced around wondering if his health was okay or if he was having family or work issues or what? All I knew was it was the first time that Reagan really sounded bad and the first time he insisted on speaking with me with urgency.
I braced myself as I drove to Hollywood. At the Musso and Frank bar, Reagan nervously kept asking me what was new with me. The situation needed immediate refocus. Reagan must have been able to sense that I was going to change direction, so he sheepishly excused himself and went to the bathroom. My imagination was having the best of me. He'd accidentally got a girl pregnant? He murdered a co-worker in a heated moment? He was joining the CIA as a spy and would never been seen again?
A deep, almost perverted voice snapped me out of my brainstorming. "Hey baby, can I get your number?" As I spun around on the bar stool, I realized that it was MIKE DOWNS! Surprise! The one and only Mike D was down from San Francisco for one night. Reagan came bouncing around the corner, grinning from ear to ear, while I breathed a monsterous sigh of relief! Loved it.
Anyhow, the three of us caught up and rehashed and did what reunited old college chums do -- turn into 21 year olds! It was a fantastic time which only got better when the announcer at the bar enthusiastically exclaimed that there would be hula hooping. Here's what happened after:
Very impressive!
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