Two Days at Terranea

by Dina Gan

TBD

"Military wedding?" I wondered aloud to my husband. But there was another yellow sign stuck into the grass along the road: Forty/Forty. I could only imagine this was code for the bride and groom, or a sign telling guests where to go for large cans of beer.

After we parked and headed to the check-in desk, we received a clue to the mystery -- a letter informing us that Universal Pictures is at the resort filming scenes for the upcoming Judd Apatow-directed film, This Is Forty. The letter also informed us that the fitness center was closed for the day.

Now a normal person might be excited that a movie was being shot at the hotel where they were about to stay, but I hadn't gone to the gym for days, and I was having serious cardio withdrawal. At least I had an afternoon tee time at The Links, which is Terranea’s 9-hole par 3 course, so I knew I could get some exercise.

As my husband and I headed down the hall to our assigned room, I happened to peek out a window to admire the ocean view. When I looked down, I saw a familiar-looking man with wavy brown hair walking hurriedly along a pathway below.

"Doesn't that guy look like that actor from that movie we just saw on Netflix?" I asked my husband.

My husband peered out the window. "Oh yeah, that’s that guy from I Love You, Man. Paul Rudd."

Through another window down the hall, we saw camera equipment, director's chairs, and a small group of people all facing the same way, including Paul Rudd, who had arrived there by now. My husband pointed at a man in sunglasses. "That guy with the beard is Judd Apatow, the director."

"Interesting," I said. I took a picture through the window anyway, just to have something to post on Facebook.

We went to our room, which had a balcony facing the ocean. From there, I noticed some very large spotlights set up on the lawn below. "Oh no," I said. "I bet they're going to shoot a night scene. We'll never get any sleep!"

At least we had a nice room. Its warm neutrals and cozy feel were instantly calming. I admired the bathroom décor, with its pale aqua walls and seashell-encrusted sconces. I saw a small bottle of lotion and took a sniff. Mmm, lemongrass sage.

Then it was off to The Links. Some golfers don’t take par 3 courses very seriously, but others know that they can be excellent irons practice. The Links at Terranea are set on the hillside of the peninsula. From almost every hole, we had a spectacular view of the crystal-blue ocean and a hazy view of Catalina Island in the distance. We went around twice to make a full round of 18 holes.

After golf, we went back to the room to watch the sunset from our balcony. From our fourth-floor view, we could see a few production crew trucks parked along the road winding through the resort grounds below. The spotlights were still there, threatening to be turned on at any moment. We people-watched from the balcony, as resort patrons made their way toward Nelson’s, which is Terranea's oceanfront restaurant with a sunset view. As if on cue, there was Paul Rudd again, walking down the path from stage right to meet his wife and son who were entering stage left. I watched with mild curiosity as they headed toward Nelson’s. Paul stopped to show his son a plant, perhaps explaining it was an indigenous variety that eco-friendly Terranea is making efforts to conserve.

When the last orange glow of the sun disappeared on the horizon, we headed back inside to shower and get dressed. We had dinner reservations at Catalina Kitchen, which is by the pool. I wanted to eat on the patio, but my husband thought the night air was too cold. Instead, we sat inside next to a window. After we ordered from the menu, I happened to look up to see a small group of people striding past. It was Paul Rudd, Judd Apatow, and their wives and children. I didn't turn my head, but my husband reported that they were promptly seated in the corner, two tables away from us.

I refused to look at them, but my husband had no choice. He reported that Paul Rudd had difficulty figuring out how to operate the fancy modern salt shaker, and that his wife drank a cocktail, while the others all had wine.

I looked out the window, where nightfall had set in. My husband nudged me. "Look, that's John Lithgow." He pointed to an older man with white hair and an unmistakably large forehead. He was eating alone, with a tablet computer for company, at a table just on the other side of the glass wall.

"He was great in Buckaroo Banzai," my husband said.
"He was in Buckaroo Banzai?" I said.

Our food arrived and for the rest of the meal I focused on my pappardelle bolognese, a heaping pile of wide flat housemade noodles smothered in meat sauce with juicy hemispheres of roasted cherry tomatoes. My husband had the three-pork flatbread pizza. Our food was so good we didn’t notice what the celebrities ate.

We skipped dessert. For some reason, I was feeling slightly agitated. With Paul Rudd on one side and John Lithgow on the other, I was feeling a bit cornered by celebrities. Somehow I felt like I had to sit up straighter, as if I was an extra in the movie of their lives, in a scene called, "Going to Dinner."

Act 2

The next day, after a trip to the fitness center for some much-needed cardio, my husband and I headed to the main pool. We situated ourselves on lounge chairs facing the ocean, with our backs to the pool. Suddenly, I heard a familiar voice saying "C'mon, Jack," and I turned my head to see Paul Rudd sauntering past, wearing swim trunks and beckoning his son toward the pool.

"There's Paul Rudd again," I whispered to my husband. "I think he's following us."

As Paul and his son got in the water, people whipped out their cellphones to casually snap a picture. I pretended to ignore the scene, and closed my eyes against the sun. I found it difficult to relax, overhearing Paul Rudd's voice as he and his son played with other kids in the pool.

My mind began to wander. I like Paul Rudd in movies. I don’t mind if he’s on TV in my living room. So why do I feel uneasy when he’s at the same swimming pool? I began to think about my brushes with fame in the past. And I mean literal brushes, as in not just elbows, but other body parts. Buttocks, for example. Like those of Henry Kissinger, who had to squeeze past me on his way out of a press conference once upon a time. Our butts touched ever so briefly. Or those of Annie Lennox, whom I met backstage at a benefit concert, near an hors d'oeuvres table. After shaking my hand, she turned her back and shimmied past me, and since it was crowded, our butts had no choice but to make contact.

Usually, my brushes with fame have involved a meeting of eyes. When I was in college, Johnny Depp was filming a movie in Baltimore and happened to walk into the same sushi restaurant where I was having dinner. He looked around the room, and for a brief moment, our eyes met.   After I moved to New York, celebrity sightings were common. I've seen Sigourney Weaver, Teri Hatcher, Olympia Dukakis, and Juliette Lewis at various restaurants, not to mention numerous notables walking down the street, including Woody Allen, Winona Ryder, Robert De Niro, Meryl Streep, Mariah Carey, LL Cool J, Susan Sarandon and Tim Robbins.

I guess it was in New York that I learned not to pay too much attention to celebrities. They are so ubiquitous that to get excited every time takes too much energy. It's like trying to get excited about a Macy's sale.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I barely noticed how quiet it had gotten. Paul Rudd was gone. Thank goodness, because I wanted to take a dip in the pool. It had been years since I had last seen a celebrity, and at least now I recalled why my instinct was to ignore him.

I still felt mildly annoyed, however. As much as celebrities may dislike attention during their so-called private moments, I actually felt it was an intrusion to see celebrities when I was on vacation and just wanted to relax. They are fine on the small screen, where their function is to entertain at the push of a button on the remote control. But in real life, they are a yoke on my soul, a harsh reminder of what I will never be.

Fortunately, we didn't see Paul Rudd for the rest of our stay at Terranea. Later that night, we watched a television show called Shedding for the Wedding. There were several contestants on stationery bikes, peddling outside a familiar-looking resort.

"Hey, that's Terranea!" I said to my husband. Somehow seeing Terranea on television brought me out of my funk. Here I am, staying at a luxury resort beautiful enough to be filmed for movies and TV. I suddenly felt very lucky. I may not be a celebrity like Paul Rudd, but in the big picture of my life, I am happy with who I am right now.

In the words of Buckaroo Banzai, "No matter where you go, there you are." And to that I would add, "No matter who you are, you are you."