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My Bruce Campbell Airport Story
To show you what a truly cool guy Bruce Campbell is, I humbly submit my account of meeting him for the first time:
At the time, I was working as an airport security officer for the Jackson County Sheriffs Dept. in Medford, Oregon. It was a pretty cool gig, never really saw any action, the worst offense was usually a parking violation or at most a minor scuffle - nothing serious. However, one of the best parts of the job was seeing celebrities flying in to film in the Southern Oregon area. I could ramble off half a dozen names, but none of them higher than C-List usually.
One day during my rounds, I was hanging out in the baggage claim area (right when the bags come off the line is a prime time for people to try to steal other people's bags, or leave their possessions unattended for a few minutes, etc), and I look to my left and BAM! There's Bruce Fuckin' Campbell standing not more than 15 feet from me.
Now, being a massive Evil Dead fan, naturally I flipped the fuck out. It was the first time I'd ever been starstruck (and I've met some pretty impressive people over my life, but that's another story). He didn't arrive with a crazy entourage, he didn't push his weight around like most hack celebrities try to in a small town (I have yet another story that I'll tell some other time about Kristie Alley barking orders at the giftshop lady like an indentured servant). He just stayed low-key, with his baseball hat pulled down low so no one would notice him and went about his business.
I waited until everyone else had left with their bags (I didn't want to alert people to his presence and start a cluster fuck of fans) and then casually walked up to him and said hello. I stammered on like an idiot about how big a fan of his I was, and how great his movies are, y'know... the typical fanboy nervous rant. Halfway through, he relaxed his shoulders and started chuckling.
When I was done with my spiel, he just laughed and said "Aw, hell. I saw the badge and thought you were going to write me a ticket or something."
I sheepishly apologized and asked him for an autograph, but the only paper I had on me was my ticket book, so I shyly asked if he would just sign something on the back.
"Ha! I knew it!" he said, joking with me. "This is just some elaborate scam. I sign my name, next thing you know, I'm wanted in twelve counties. Sure thing, kid." (Normally, I'd take offense to someone calling me kid, but coming from him it was somehow totally cool.)
He took the ticket book, scrawled a few words, closed it, thanked me for being a fan, and went on his way. It was totally surreal. I, of course, spilled the whole story to one of my fellow officers when he relieved me for my lunch break, and he wanted to see proof. So, I opened up the ticket book and saw for the first time what Bruce had written:
"Hey Peter - Get back to work. Bruce Campbell."
So there you have it - Bruce Campbell, absolutely 100% pure cool.
At the time, I was working as an airport security officer for the Jackson County Sheriffs Dept. in Medford, Oregon. It was a pretty cool gig, never really saw any action, the worst offense was usually a parking violation or at most a minor scuffle - nothing serious. However, one of the best parts of the job was seeing celebrities flying in to film in the Southern Oregon area. I could ramble off half a dozen names, but none of them higher than C-List usually.
One day during my rounds, I was hanging out in the baggage claim area (right when the bags come off the line is a prime time for people to try to steal other people's bags, or leave their possessions unattended for a few minutes, etc), and I look to my left and BAM! There's Bruce Fuckin' Campbell standing not more than 15 feet from me.
Now, being a massive Evil Dead fan, naturally I flipped the fuck out. It was the first time I'd ever been starstruck (and I've met some pretty impressive people over my life, but that's another story). He didn't arrive with a crazy entourage, he didn't push his weight around like most hack celebrities try to in a small town (I have yet another story that I'll tell some other time about Kristie Alley barking orders at the giftshop lady like an indentured servant). He just stayed low-key, with his baseball hat pulled down low so no one would notice him and went about his business.
I waited until everyone else had left with their bags (I didn't want to alert people to his presence and start a cluster fuck of fans) and then casually walked up to him and said hello. I stammered on like an idiot about how big a fan of his I was, and how great his movies are, y'know... the typical fanboy nervous rant. Halfway through, he relaxed his shoulders and started chuckling.
When I was done with my spiel, he just laughed and said "Aw, hell. I saw the badge and thought you were going to write me a ticket or something."
I sheepishly apologized and asked him for an autograph, but the only paper I had on me was my ticket book, so I shyly asked if he would just sign something on the back.
"Ha! I knew it!" he said, joking with me. "This is just some elaborate scam. I sign my name, next thing you know, I'm wanted in twelve counties. Sure thing, kid." (Normally, I'd take offense to someone calling me kid, but coming from him it was somehow totally cool.)
He took the ticket book, scrawled a few words, closed it, thanked me for being a fan, and went on his way. It was totally surreal. I, of course, spilled the whole story to one of my fellow officers when he relieved me for my lunch break, and he wanted to see proof. So, I opened up the ticket book and saw for the first time what Bruce had written:
"Hey Peter - Get back to work. Bruce Campbell."
So there you have it - Bruce Campbell, absolutely 100% pure cool.
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