I only met William Shatner once, but I figured this would be a good day to tell that story. It's his birthday. I originally wrote this piece back in 2006.
My one and only William Shatner encounter occured in the late '80s.
At the time I was working for Steve & Garry at WLUP-AM, as well as doing an overnight disc jockey shift on WLUP-FM. One of the perks for my seven day work week was the occasional “personal appearance.”
I was under no illusions that people were clamoring for a Rick Kaempfer appearance. The entire concept was laughable. During the Steve & Garry years I was best known for being “the idiot” who didn’t get Steve & Garry what they wanted fast enough. The extent of my personality during my FM air shifts involved new and interesting ways to introduce Led Zeppelin. I knew the score. When I was sent out to a personal appearance by the radio station, it only meant that they were contracted to provide a radio personality for an event, and everyone else on the staff had said no.
They didn’t say “no” for no reason.
Any “non-star” who has ever done one of these appearances knows what I’m talking about. It’s not exactly a rip-roaring good time. It’s a couple of hours of schmoozing the client, saying hello to maybe a dozen people, and watching the clock.
Luckily I didn’t bring my dignity with me the day I was sent out to the Chicago Auto Show for a personal appearance. It would have just gotten in the way every time I had to answer the question: “Who are you?”
The only thing that saved this day from being a complete loss was that William Shatner was scheduled to make an appearance on the same day. Shatner’s setup was no more than fifty feet away from mine.
I had a tiny 5’ X 7’ booth. He had a roped off area in front of an elevated stage.
I had a metal folding chair. He had a fully stocked trailer attended to by three Teamsters.
I had an 8 ½ by 11 paper sign that said: “Meet Loop DJ.” He had a large poster with his picture under the headline: “MEET WILLIAM SHATNER!”
On the other hand, almost nobody was there to see him either. About fifteen minutes before his appearance was set to begin, there were maybe a half-dozen people in this gigantic roped-off area. Since nobody was there to see me, and nobody was there to see him, I left my post by the “Meet Loop DJ” sign, and got in line. I figured, “What the heck? I’ll never get another opportunity like this.”
Minutes turned into an hour, and still, there was no sign of William Shatner.
By then the throng had grown to maybe twenty people. When he finally poked his head out of the trailer and made his way up to the stage, the crowd let out frenzied cheers at the sight of him. He nodded politely and walked up to the microphone.
“Thanks for coming out today. I’m looking forward to talking to each and every one of you. Unfortunately, I won’t be signing any autographs, but I will shake your hand, press the flesh, and say hello.”
Since I was seventh in line, I heard what he said to all six people in line ahead of me.
“Hi, I’m Bill. Nice to meet you.”
That was it. Within seconds it was my turn. That’s when I smelled him. He reeked of wine.
“Hi, I’m Bill. Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too,” I said.
He shook everyone’s hand in maybe five minutes. With that, boom, he was gone—back into the trailer.
I had never really been to a celebrity personal appearance before so I didn’t know what to expect, but never in my wildest dreams did I think it would be that lame. On the other hand, I looked around at the rest of the people in the audience and they didn’t seem that upset. I heard one husband and wife talking on their way out.
“What did you think of his piece?” the husband asked.
“I like the fluffy TJ Hooker one better,” the wife said.
I went back to my “Meet Loop DJ” sign, and watched that trailer for twenty minutes from my metal folding chair.
Nobody came, and nobody left.
Unless there was some sort of an escape hatch beneath the trailer, William Shatner was spending several hours on Sunday afternoon hanging out with some Teamsters in a trailer in the middle of an almost empty Chicago Auto Show.
I eventually picked up my “Meet Loop DJ” sign, folded up my metal folding chair, and left. Shatner was still there.
My pay for that afternoon was an electric can opener and two tennis rackets.
Don’t let anyone tell you that showbiz isn’t glamorous.
