A Wink from Jamie Lee

In an attempt to catch the spirit of young adventure and friendship, I lagged behind a few yards in hopes of snapping a good shot of my friends before me.

I swear on my auntie's clarinet that high school band nerds, besides participating in band camp every summer, also do fun things, believe it or not—like take band trips out of town. For a stranded teenager, these trips were the highlight of the school year.

Of the four band trips I made during high school, the one to San Fransisco was probably the best of them all. A gaggle of nerdy teenage instrumentalists grabbed their blocky music makers, packed their bags, and got on a few planes—from Memphis, Tennessee, to San Francisco! We enjoyed playing a single show with high ratings, followed by a nauseous tour of Highway 1, awe-inspiring walks through a redwood forest, and finally sightseeing at Fisherman's Wharf. I had my group of friends (most of them on woodwinds) that I stuck with, but at the time I was discovering my growing love for photography and would often trail behind the troupe to take pictures.

After a seafood dinner at Bubba Gump Shrimp Co., my friends and I decided to take a hike, find someplace to play pool, and flirt away some of our teenage hormones. The streets were newly clean from one of the fresh drizzles we had quickly become accustomed to. In an attempt to catch the spirit of young adventure and friendship, I lagged behind a few yards in hopes of snapping a good shot of my friends before me. I was walking alone, looking through my viewfinder and hoping I wouldn't trip on an upraised brick and make an ass of myself, when I noticed my friends stop in their tracks, parting as if Jesus himself were approaching—all to let a tall woman walk through. I stopped walking as well and lowered my camera to watch the woman approach my lonesome self.

She walked toward me, and somehow all the other tourists and natives had abandoned an area about 30 feet in circumference all around me. It must have been fate, for what was to happen next has become a highlight of my life.

So there it was, me against her, whoever she was. And as I later swore to my friends, the lady lowered her sunglasses, looked directly at me, winked her left eye, and continued to strut down the street. _She winked!_ It had been Jamie Lee Curtis herself—short graying hair, long thin white coat, dark jeans, black sunglasses. I remember the moment perfectly, and even to this day have to make a band-nerd promise that she did in fact wink my way.

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