I was at a four way stop in the Encino Hills when in the perpendicular lane to the left I saw a black corvette convertable approaching. Its wheels didn't seem to be slowing as it approached the limit line and sure enough it failed to stop, so I waited. It entered the intersection to make a left up toward Mulholland Drive.
I honked to let the driver know I was aware of his infraction and took my moment to look him in the eye. Suntaned with the wind in his hair, he waved and smiled that frownish grin with the powerful lower lip, a friendly hand thrown erect. It was Charlton Heston who had run this stop sign.
The moment was the pure quiet slo-mo sync that can happen when two people are alone; I could hear him think: "Ah! Another fan has recognized me. I shall wave in recognition as I pass."
He may indeed have seen my mouth fall open and eyes widen to a greater blue. And to this day I know in my heart that on that sunny afternoon in the toot of a honk Charlton Heston had renewed in him the experience of himself as a star, Moses, Ben Hur, the Omega Man, "Soylent Green is peeeeple!!!" And I have come to accept that he may never know my experience of our moment together: "Hey! That guy ran the stop sign! It was MY turn to go!"
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