WHEN STARS ALIGN: Fame is not contagious

Not to put tickets on myself, as the Australians say, but I've met Arnold Schwarzenegger twice.

The first time was in Hollywood when he was in a round-table with a composed George Clooney, the beautiful Uma Thurman who had a hacking smoker's cough and the upcoming young star Chris O'Donnell.

It was for the awful Batman and Robin movie.

Also at the small table for the interview were three English journalists and two German guys.

By day the Germans – all in black – huddled in whatever shade they could find in the sun-bleached backlot and inhaled cigarettes, after this interview session the three English guys found the PR person and whined about not being able to get a one-on-one with director Joel Schumacher.

But that was easy, when we walked from the interview to the studio set I walked with Schumacher and scored a lengthy one-on-one.

Arnie was interesting but didn't strike me as big, not as huge as I had expected.

But then I looked at hand resting on the table next to mine and I knew why he was called the Austrian Oak.

My hand and arm were like a scrawny twig next to his huge fist holding a massive cigar.

The second time I met him was in Sydney when he was promoting some equally awful film.

I'd been to the preview the previous night and walked the red carpet, waving and pointing to strangers in the crowd just like the professional stars and politicians do.

The following day there was a perfunctory 20 minute interview which I taped, and so did Arnie's minder who sat in the whole time.

That night in the swanky hotel overlooking Sydney Harbour I had a decent dinner and at the end the waiter indicated there was a cigar bar on the top floor should I care to go there.

Well, if it was good enough for Arnie . . .

And so there in a room of humidors and leather arm chairs I had a port and a chose a small but decent cigar.

In this gentleman's room there was another person, a beautifully groomed and slightly older man I took to be from the Middle East. He was reading that day's Sydney Morning Herald and wearing an immaculate suit.

We nodded and I took up a seat just out of his sightlines so as not to disturb him.

But after a while the paper rustled and he greeted me, indicating I could join him.

And so I – long hair, jeans and an open-necked shirt – did.

We made small talk about cigars and I told him my dad enjoyed a good cigar so that's where I got it from, and we laughed about how swanky fashion models had now adopted tuxedos and the cigar as an accessory for their cover shoots.

I asked why he was in Sydney and it was something to do with finance, government ministers and meetings. It sounded very serious.

He asked why I was there and, quite ashamed given the high-flying reason he gave, admitted I was just there to interview Arnold.

“You've met Arnie?” he said leaning out of his leather seat.

And suddenly the man who doubtless consorted with prime ministers and presidents was just another fanboy who wanted to know, “What's he like? Is he as big as he appears?”

And so on.

Suddenly I was the centre of attention: The Man Who Had Met Arnold Schwarzenegger.

“Twice?”

It was fun and flattering – he asked what other stars I had met but none impressed him as much as Arnie – but eventually the conversation ran its course and we made our excuses and went back to our rooms.

The following morning after breakfast I stepped out of the lobby and there, beside a stretch limo was the man, his elegant wife and two well-dressed children.

Our eyes met and he immediately came over pulling his wife behind him. I was introduced as “the man I was telling you about, the man who has met Arnold Schwarzenegger”.

I bowed to his wife, shook his children's hands and we made small talk while their chauffeur waited. Then they got into their limo and the tinted windows came between us.

He went to wherever his world took him and I wandered down to Circular Quay, got a shabby taxi to the airport and The Man Who Had Met Arnold Schwarzenegger (twice) stood in the irritable queue for 45 minutes just to get a seat in over-crowded economy. 

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These entries are of little consequence to anyone other than me Graham Reid, the author of this site, and maybe my family, researchers and those with too much time on their hands.

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