The Rembis Report and Other Fascinating Topics - Volume LXXIII

I remember my first autograph.

I am not talking about the first one I signed for somebody else, I mean the first one I got from somebody else. The first autograph I ever signed may have been a high school yearbook. But the earliest one I recall was a Detroit Red Wings hockey player. I was a little kid.

I don't remember who it was now, but I remember the thrill. The Red Wings won, and when he came out of the locker room, the crowd erupted in cheers. We clamored toward him, and he eventually took my program and scribbled his name on it. WOW! SO COOL! A real NHL hockey player signed something for me. Talk about making a kid's day!

I was seven or eight years old, and I was hooked. I was going to get every hockey player's autograph I could and put them all together in an album. I had conceived and invented the autograph book. Man, I was a genius.

My Dad took us to lots of games. After every one, there I was, hanging outside of the locker room waiting for those guys. They always delivered. Not just the Red Wings, the Boston Bruins, Chicago Blackhawks, Toronto Maple Leafs, all the teams came to Olympia Stadium at some point, and the visiting players were also big on communing with the fans, especially kids.

That was probably the best thing about hockey, meeting the players up close. I don't know if there is as much autograph hounding now as there was then. People are more into selfies now. The side-by-side shots that prove you met may be considered more personal than an indecipherable scrawl.

I once met Gordie Howe and got his autograph. In the 1950's and for most of the 20th century, he was considered the greatest hockey player of all time. My Dad and Gordie Howe knew each other on a first name basis because my dad was a puck boy for the Red Wings during those dynastic years when they played as hard as they could to keep the Stanley Cup in Detroit.

Gordie Howe was surrounded by fans jammed together to meet him. He was not at the stadium in any official capacity that I knew of, probably just there to watch a game, but everybody knew who he was, and they wanted to meet him. We were about twenty feet away and my Dad yelled "Hey, Gordie!" and waved.

Gordie Howe shouted back, "Hey Bill!" and waved us over. My Dad told him he wanted to introduce me, Gordie said a couple nice things about my Dad, remembering him from his puck boy days, said he was happy to meet me, and signed a piece of cardboard for me. It was fantastic!

It always feels that way when somebody shares their autograph. I still collect autographs. I have a great book, filled with the signatures of film actors, producers, billionaires, screenwriters, directors, and sports figures. I started keeping it handy, because you never know who you will run into, and I am so happy I did.

Selfies are cool, too. Fun to share or put up on a shelf, or place on a prominent office wall, but an autograph, to me, is much more special. It is as close to having a piece of a person as you can get.

I don't have all of my collection in the main book I carry now. Most of them are on random pieces of paper, like that odd bit of cardboard that Gordie Howe signed. I have autographs on the backs of business cards and receipts. Some, I got with a photo of the celebrity from a function, or as a gift in the mail after a phone conversation. I have the autograph of some of the readers of this newsletter, and I cherish every one, so thanks again!

The best thing about getting an autograph is having the story of how you met the person and your interaction with them. Sometimes you meet somebody on the fly or in a crowd and you are just one in a million fans to them. That's okay, they may have just won the World Series or Super Bowl or an Oscar and have a lot of other things going on, their heads are spinning, and they won't remember you anyway. Other times, when you meet somebody in a quieter moment and are able to share a conversation, it becomes a great story to tell. I have a few of those.

Like when James Cromwell broke my blue Sharpie and got ink all over his hand. He did a great job putting it back together and was happy to sign my book, also leaving a partial fingerprint. Or the time I rented a car to Della Reese. She starred in the TV show Touched by an Angel which filmed in Salt Lake City, and I worked at AVIS in the airport. She was mobbed by adoring fans, and was such a gracious woman, hugging them, signing autographs, and posing for pictures with everyone. I rented cars to a lot of well-known people, like charismatic politician Vicente Fox, before he was elected president of Mexico, and Michael Stipe, when he was lead singer of REM.

The list of celebrities and infamous who I have met go on and on. Being a name dropper and gathering proof is just something I do; it must be my nature. I am not listing every notable autograph here right now, as each one deserves its own story to go along with it, but when you are a little kid meeting somebody you see on TV, it is a big deal. Especially when it is the only celebrity you fear (for no good reason) like Soupy Sales. Everybody else, however, I was thrilled to meet, especially other local Detroit TV icons like Bozo the Clown and Sonny Eliot.

Detroiters know Sonny Eliot. He was our offbeat, quick-witted weatherman who was never seen without a smile. We ran into him one time walking into Olympia Stadium. I shouted "Look, it's Sonny Eliot!"

Sonny stopped in his tracks, hunched down, swiveled his neck in every direction, widened his eyes, raised his hands, and shouted back, "Where? Where?" The funny man happily signed his autograph for us and said some other silly stuff. He was pure gold.

I scrounged up the photo of me and my sister Christine meeting Bozo the Clown in 1970. Also, a memorable occasion. This was right after we attended his show at the studio. They told us the number one rule was to never touch Bozo's hair. Nobody did for fear of expulsion.

Back then, Detroit was not the only town to have their own performer to portray Bozo the Clown. Others resided at TV stations throughout the country and the world. Our Bozo the Clown, aka Art Cervi died last year. Sad to hear of his passing, but happy that he lived long enough to see so many clowns enter politics and become world leaders.

Autograph seeking is not for the shy, and I never was. As a hobby, it is basically kid stuff. I am amazed as anyone that I still do it. Walking up and asking somebody to sign their name when they don't know you is quite personal. The first few times somebody signs their autograph, they usually think, "Really? Me? Wow! Okay, sure!" But for huge stars who are hounded by paparazzi, followed around, or even stalked by fans, signing your name over and over can get annoying. It is more the domain of little kids, and depending on one's level of renown, when faced with an adult asking for an autograph, some celebrities may even refuse. Or so, I have heard.

I have never been refused an autograph, but I am also picky about who I ask, and when. The circumstances have to be right. I don't want anyone to feel forced, or rushed, or cornered. It should be a pleasant experience, and it should be a real celebrity, as defined by the autograph seeker. In my case, generally somebody well-known enough that if I spoke their name, you could picture them, or you know their work. They also need to be somebody I like.

So, when I heard that kids were getting autographs of the Ukrainian soldiers in Kherson, I was surprised they would do that. My first thought was that a soldier is not a celebrity. But I have not been trapped in territory occupied by Russian soldiers for several months, so it is necessary to respect that perspective. The soldiers who liberated them are superstars. Super-heroes!

It is great that they have somebody to respect and look up to. Soldiers are sometimes just kids themselves. And, while they sometimes have to kill other soldiers, who are also just other kids who were sent off to kill people they do not know for reasons they may not entirely comprehend, those who successfully complete their missions garner respect because they are the ones who fought to protect their territory. With that in mind, wanting their autographs seems to make sense.

Having a piece of the person who saved your city that you will be able to talk about forever? On a flag, no less? Such a deal. I would want that, too.

I am happy to know that Ukraine is surviving and hope the war ends soon.

As for the act of the autograph, it builds a bond. I don't know who of the many people who signed my books and scraps of paper may recall me. Probably not many. But I remember a lot of them. And every single one was important in that moment.

So, if you ever have anyone ask for your autograph, and you can spare that moment, please do. It means a lot more to them than you know.

They will cherish you forever.

Thanks for reading.

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