Emily Paine Carter

Recent columns

• Readers write of run-ins with political bigwigs
• Recording holds clues from 6 decades ago
• Roanoke Valley contains many big hearts
• Column archive

First, thanks to all you folks who sent "Salem POW-camp" stories. I hope to share a couple of more in this space soon.

And thanks for your suggestions for future columns: With so many ideas on both front- and back-burners, I may need a new stove.

Land's sakes, why, I'm "all et up" with thanks! Here's an advance round of gratitude for your replies to another request: "Brushes with Greatness" -- "brushes" not restricted to great artists.

Maybe "Celebrity" is more accurate than "Greatness": Say, Einstein was a great thinker; Britney Spears, a celebrity. (And we're not celebrating celebrities or bragging.)

But you're more likely to have shared an elevator -- especially a down elevator? -- with ol' Britney, bless her heart. Do tell -- unless, of course, you met in an anonymous 12-step program.

Maybe such anecdotes aren't a big deal in L.A. or New York -- cities chock-full of the Rich'n'Famous. But they amuse this villager. Like, the first time a child sees his teacher in "real life" -- say, in a grocery store: "Shouldn't she be somewhere else?"

For example, a pal reported even celebrities with Charlottesville estates sometimes must be like us: in line at the DMV.

Son Erik seems to have had so many moments in arts-filled New York that they're fading from memory. I remember his stories about working at (now-gone) Tower Records: For one, he sold audio equipment to singer Lou Reed. And a famed actor handed Erik a cellphone and asked him to verify to the actor's wife that he really was at Tower. (I'm annoyed that I can't recall the name -- but Erik has even forgotten the incident. Hey, you know moms ... )

Via e-mail, he did recall when Paula Abdul wanted him to unwrap all the 15-plus CDs she was buying. He said he would do so whenever the line at the very busy store ended. "Admittedly, before knowing who she was, but still not changing the answer when she gave me her credit card & I saw her name." Hey, strike a blow for fairness!

Salem native / now Nashvillager Sylvia Brand Knaup was in an aerobics class in New York with "Ma Walton," aka Michael Learned.

And while strolling a New York street, my last husband and I swapped smiles with actor Willem Dafoe. Gol-lee! I exclaimed in four syllables, channeling my inner Gomer Pyle.

This newspaper's recent [Jan. 23] "page two" report reminded me of Betsy (Elizabeth) Freund's auditory brush with greatness during her New York career days. Seems that Ringo Starr's publicist Elizabeth Freund was making a statement for him regarding a "Regis and Kelly" TV show.

And when, sigh, Beatle George Harrison died, several reporters started calling "our" Elizabeth at 5:30 a.m. for statements from Ringo. Our Elizabeth had a Manhattan listing; the one they sought was not yet listed in media files, figured Betsy in an e-mail. A week or two later, she received an international call "from a man with an English accent who wanted to speak to Elizabeth Freund and didn't identify himself. ... I strongly suspect that it was Ringo calling from England."

And, playing tennis in Saudi Arabia in the 1970s, my brother Bobby beat somebody who beat somebody who beat Rod Laver. ...

Now, the ball is in your court.