NORMAN LEAR

The Beverly Hilton

Beverly Hills, CA

April 27, 2015

Photo credit: Norman Lear

If it weren’t for Norman Lear’s chutzpah in the 1970s, we never would have seen such game-changing television programs as All in the Family, Sanford and Son, The Jeffersons, and One Day at a Time. As a writer, producer, director, and creator, he terrified the networks by talking about controversial, yet real-life family problems in the comfort of American living rooms. And, if it weren't for my chutzpah in 2015, I never would have gotten him to take this picture.

Nowadays, this revered activist enjoys motivating small groups of people at powerful philanthropic conferences. That’s where I got to meet him. In a highly air-conditioned meeting room at The Beverly Hilton, he encouraged us to follow our dreams, while he also wished more kids were allowed to do the same. He explained his general perception of people. He refers to others as wet or dry, based on their energy and receptiveness to being touched.

He said, "Some dry people... you could cut yourself just by sitting too closely. I judge people by their hugs. A wet hug is good, from a good person." It sounded like a bunch of hippy talk, but I grew up around those folks and can speak a little Flower Child, so I understood what he meant.

Once his talk was complete, I walked up to say hello. I could tell that Mr. Lear wanted to get off the two-foot-high stage he’d been speaking from, but it was a big step down. We made eye contact and I asked if he wanted to use my cane. He sharply said, “No.” Like, Don't be silly. Then he asked, “Why do you have a cane? You're too young.” "I have MS," I replied. He immediately warmed up to me. "Oh, I'm sorry,” he said. We didn’t have to hug for me to conclude that Mr. Lear is a wet person. I offered my hand and helped him down. (Although he wasn't touching my cane, I was using it to balance us both. So, however you want to spin it, he was cane-adjacent and this was cane-usage-by-association.

Finally, on level ground, I had his undivided attention. I said, "Hi. I'm an artist. I volunteer as an art teacher for abused children and their families who would otherwise be homeless." He said, "Oh that's great. My daughter does that.” I said, "You were saying that we should follow our dreams and I believe you can help me with mine.” He seemed curious, so I continued, “I have a celebrity photo album. It's just a bunch of pictures of me taken by celebrities. Will you take my picture?" He happily held out his hand and took a couple of quick snapshots. I thanked him as he handed my camera back, he smiled and then moved on to brave the inspired crowd who was eager to make his acquaintance.

As he walked away, I looked at the camera and was surprised to find that this powerful man who’d once had his finger on the pulse of American society today had his finger on the lens of my digital camera.

I never ask for a photo with a celebrity I run into but in this case, Mr. Norman Lear’s finger volunteered a cameo appearance in all three photos. I sure appreciate his kind and accommodating nature.

Thanks for being a normal person, Norman!

Photo credit: Norman Lear