Showing posts with label Ashley Judd. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ashley Judd. Show all posts

Saturday, February 5, 2011

Play while the Blog's Away




              The sky is blue, the sun is warm and the blog is off for the weekend. 

              But wait, wait, there's more.

             This was a good week with Bobby Kennedy singing in Harlem, Dinner in a Diner with Ashley Judd, boozing on the beach with the Mad Men of London,   playing tennis with a Bernie Madoff wannabe in Paradise ,

              If you missed any of the above, now would be a good time. 

                 There's almost a year of goodies here. Like Frank Lloyd Wright's last private house and his big mistake. 
       
                     New York had another deluge of snow and still nobody seemed to notice the beautify of a blizzard in New York City You'll find a fine snort and a giggle in the wacky wonderful Coneheads at Silverstone. Or the flip side of that madness to the days of dope and meditation in The Volvo Years.
    
                  if you missed the all-time-record-breaking-hit- monster blog, The Real Allard Story:give it a click.  No, I lied; the tribute to the women who are as"sweet as honey and smile at you like you're made of money," attracted even more hits. And If you missed the 1979 Polish Grand Prix now's your chance.

Or, click on bob judd on the top of this page or slip down the right hand column to click on such gems as  my favorite, How You Look at the Sky.   Or The Kythera Chronicles to shake hands with Barbarossa.

Or just cruise through the links on the lower right hand side of this page, maybe come upon some unexpected little gem like  an excerpt from The Candle In Praise of the Belleville Midgets The Midgets of Belleville. Part II Truth in Grass: a Kansas adventure, The Story of the Larned Eagle Optic, Hollywood Calls, You Pick up the Phone, Hollywood Calls, you pick up the phone part 2 maybe my favorite My Short Happy War in Afghanistan or no, wait, wait, Fangio and the Maserati 250 F for the priceless video of Fangio in a polo shirt and helmet, absolutely relaxed driving a Maserati 250F around a beat up old race track with no run off, no barriers, no safety nothing.  My lunch with Rob Walker is a good one even though it leaves out the Betty Grable stories. 
 
       You don't want to miss My Short Happy War in Afghanistan
 
             Then there's Erno Goldfingers house-and-mine, which throws in Ian Flemming, no extra charge. Riding around Laguna Seca with Jackie Stewart was picked up by Jalopnik.com.

             Read  Uncle John's Prayer for guidance through these difficult days.
 
              Then there was the time my Dad,  Clarence Judd Head-Butts a Truck.  Truck dies. That's a good one. 

             And, of course, the one that started it all, Truck Story.
 
               Then Virgin calls, and Forrest goes to Hollywood to star with an Electric car. And Forrest does a shoot in bed with Virgin. That one is a lot of fun. 

                Although, you might want to take a look at Pheromone Dreams to see what they are doing in bed in front of a film crew. While you're there it's just a short hop to Nurse Pelvis. 
            Or take a dip in the world's largest concrete freshwater free municipal swimming pool.
           And for heat on a frosty afternoon, click on my dance with a prima ballerina.
 
              For a tasty bite with bon mots check out my friend, Gerry Freeman's foodie blog as  Hungry Gerald globe trots from spa to Paris and beyond.

             Or go skip over to the column on the right and click on any date or title from last year.  These blogs are evergreen as we say in the trade.

            

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Dinner with Dario Franchitti and Ashley Judd



         The hotel lobby was crowded so I took my time looking around the room.  Nope, she wasn't there. 

            I thought, being both stunningly beautiful and famous for her roles in Kiss the Girls, The Divine Secrets of the Ya Ya Sisterhood, Norma Jean & Marilyn (she played Marilyn Monroe) that Ashley Judd would  stand out like a Bird of Paradise in a barnyard. 

            She didn't stand out.  She was there but I didn’t see her until she detached  herself from the hotel lobby wall.  It was a kind of yoga trick, of going very quiet and blending into the woodwork so nobody noticed a world famous movie star.  It was self defense, because if anybody had noticed Ashley Judd, she’d have been mobbed.

              This is the time of year when the Indy Cars head south for Spring Training to test the cars and drum up a little PR for the new season.  I'd called up Dario Franchitti and asked if I could take him to dinner for an interview and he said, “Sure.  Would it be OK, if I brought along my fiancĂ©.”
 
              “Sure,” I said. Thinking YIPPPPEEEEE.  Wondering if she might be a cousin.
             We left the hotel quickly.  They were so cute together.  Dario in the front seat, reaching awkwardly around his neck to hold her hand in back.


 At the Sebring Diner, (much less chance of being recognized in a diner than some fancy place. Plus there are no fancy restaurants in Sebring) Dario was his usual self.    Ask him a question or two and he’s off, funny, open, insightful.  Here’s a couple of samples:   “Soft tires, a thousand horsepower, as far as the road courses were concerned the cars were perfect.  But they had to slow them down for the ovals because they were just out of control.   I mean 242 average at Fontana with a big wing on the back. 

                Least favorite words: Do you know why I’ve stopped you?

                 Favorite words: God says, “there’s a bunch of your buddies in the back room.”

               The interview didn’t take long and then we just talked.  Ashley was incandescent.  Actors often have a public, glittering, utterly charming public persona.  Ashley was just herself.  Which is to say very, very bright. 

          “Sure, girls from New York are tough. And girls from Georgia are sweet. But those feisty Kentucky girls, they are the ones you have to look out for. We have sugar and fire in our blood. We can ride a horse, be a dĂ©butante, throw a left hook and tell you the entire UK football line up all while making sweet tea. And if we have an opinion, you get to know it."

           After a bit we talked about family. 

           She knew more of the Judd genealogy than I did.  “Right, right, Thomas Judd and his family were on the Griffen, landed in Boston in 1633,.  Don’t you wish we still had that farm he had in Cambridge?  We’d own half of Harvard?”
Dario wins the Indy 500


                 The next morning Dario was outside his race car, twisted into some strange yoga stretch.  “Where’d you learn that?” I asked.

                   “Where do you think?”