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Shane and I went out on the town one night in Nashville. We decided to meet up with my friends Keith and Candace from the radio station at a cool bar not far from Music Row called The Boundary. The Boundary was an unusual place, a bit like a ‘bar in the round.’ It was two stories with a giant circular bar on the first floor, and it was almost always packed.

It was a pretty mixed crowd, if you consider a bar full of mid-level record company executives, interns and the occasional just-signed or just-about-to-be-signed artists a mixed crowd.

Shane and I were pushing our way up to the bar, which proves to be not as difficult as one might think when one of you is 6′ 4″ and the other is 6′2″ and “husky.”*

I could have stood there all day without a glance, but with Shane being as beautiful as he is, everyone noticed him. Even the straight guys, like the hot bartender in front of us. He was working on our drinks when an older blonde woman made her way up to the bar and squeezed between us. She smiled at us and ordered a drink. I have only the vaguest memory of her face and the fact that she complimented my tie.

Shane and I got our drinks and headed back to join my friends on the upstairs balcony.

Shane stopped me once we got a clearing, “So Olivia liked your tie?”

“Who?” I replied.

“Olivia Newton-John. Didn’t she just say she liked your tie?”

“You mean that woman at the bar? She complimented my tie, yes. But that wasn’t Olivia Newton-John,” I said.

“Dude, that totally was Olivia Newton-John. I just about pissed myself when she started talking to you.”

“Shane, you’ve got to stop smoking crack. It wasn’t her. There is no way that Olivia Newton-John just stood three inches away from me and talked to me without my recognizing her. I had the biggest crush on her as a kid. I had her posters on my bedroom wall. I have seen Grease and Xanadu so many times that I can quote the movies almost word for word. I know all of her songs.”**

Shane thought for a minute and said, “Hmm. Maybe you’re right. I didn’t get that good of a look at her.”

We went back to our table, continued drinking and somehow made it back to our respective homes in one piece. A typical Friday night.

Monday morning my phone rang. It was Shane.

“Hey Paul, have you seen today’s paper?”

“No, Sharon was reading it when I left, so I didn’t grab it. Why?”

“Get a copy and check out the Lifestyles section and call me back,” he said before hanging up.

I grabbed a paper in the conference room and almost immediately saw the article Shane was most definitely excited about. It was the “Sighted” section where people call in their favorite celebrity sightings and talk about the goings-on at local hot spots.

And there it was:

Spotted: Our favorite Aussie, Olivia Newton-John, famous for her role in Grease and 80’s pop hits, at The Boundary on Friday night. She’s in town cutting her latest album that is rumored to be a return to her country roots.

Shit.

I hate to be wrong. I especially hate to be wrong in such an embarrassing way.

I called Shane back. “Hey, I guess you were right. I can’t believe that I didn’t recognize her.”

“Yeah me either, of course she doesn’t exactly look like she did in the 80’s. Oh well. At least she liked your tie,” he responded with a chuckle.

“Actually, she said she LOVED my tie. There’s a difference.”

{ - }

I was reminded of this story tonight because of the airing of “You’re the One That I Want” on NBC, in which Broadway hopefuls compete for the roles of Danny and Sandy in the latest revival of the musical. Olivia was on screen briefly, prompting Kristy to comment on her appearance. I personally thought she looked pretty good tonight. But then again what do I know, apparently I can’t recognize her when she’s standing close enough to smell.

* I have always hated this term. As a kid I was forced to wear clothing that came with “husky” on the label. This was especially bad with jeans, since they had the size listed on that funky brown patch on the back. “He’s not fat, he’s just husky.” Gag me.

** And my parents claimed to be totally surprised when I came out. Can you say ‘denial?’