​I don’t think I was even three years old yet when it happened. I slipped on a wet, wooden kitchen bench and knocked out my two front teeth. Even though it is one of my earliest memories, oddly, I can’t remember crying or being in pain. However, I vaguely remember being quite bloody and being rushed to see a doctor. Or was it the dentist? (These were the days before health and dental insurance, and in emergencies, we'd be taken to a family friend.)

Strangely, my family could find only one of the two teeth, with the second remaining a mystery...until they took X-rays. Apparently, my fall was so hard that my missing tooth was embedded somewhere up by my nose.

Mom had an almost self-righteous disdain for celebrity worship, and I picked up her tendency to mentally dethrone superstars of any kind. Some of my girlfriends were enamored with the likes of Donny Osmond and the Beatles, but I shrank from their silly swooning.
 
I got up close and personal with Hollywood movie stars two times. The first happened randomly when a movie was being filmed across the street from El Centro, my elementary school. Cloris Leachman, a star in the show, wandered over to the walls of our playground where my friends started clamoring for her autograph. Swept up in the frenzy but with nothing for her to sign, I handed her my dirty, blue tennis shoe, an awkward act of fandom that still makes me cringe.
 
The second time was in junior high when I actually made it to the silver screen myself. Filmmakers often came to my hometown, where they found wide streets and cool, old houses (like Tanner Manor), and rumor had it our city offered inexpensive film permits. In addition, South Pasadena sits less than 15 miles from Hollywood. So, I don’t know whether it was the period homes, the price, or the proximity that drew famous people to our neck of the woods, but I do know that when Hollywood came to town in the spring of 1976, it changed lives, including mine.