On a Cold Vermont Afternoon

Over a year ago I was walking around in Woodstock, Vermont, slowly recovering from the shock of discovering a town named "Woodstock" that existed in a place other than New York and was actually less hippy and more cool than the "original" namesake. We had just popped out from a shee-shee chocolataire place and had finished exploring the graphic novels in the independent bookstore when we decided to make a little stop at the local mom-and-pop grocery store. Amidst the hanging salamis and Vermont-jarred preserves, a friend of mine made happened across a distinguished gentleman with white hair who had a familiar air about him.

"I know that guy," he whispered to me, all undercover-like, making sideways glances at the guy who was now speaking with an older woman we assumed was his wife, as they considered cakes and muffins and croissants.

I looked towards him, I stared actually, because I assumed his advanced years would prevent him from noticing a gawker. It was the kind of move my brother would have yelled at me for, furrowing his brow in anger and saying something like "what the hell!? I'm never telling you anything again!" But I was right, and he didn't notice me, so I continued the unabashed observation.

Who was this mysterious man with the aristocratic air? I too sensed that I knew him from somewhere.

"He's in movies," my friend said, "he's a character actor. What the heck's his name?"

My friend left to walk around the tiny store, to grab another angle, to have a better look. Each time he repositioned himself he would glance up momentarily, continuing with the sneaky vibe that was really just making him more obvious than he would have otherwise been. But still, no luck.

"I can't stand this," he told me as we left the character actor back at the store and proceeded towards the car because the 2-hour parking allotment was about to run out, "I have to remember who he is."

And so for months, for over a year, it was a running joke. Sometimes I'd randomly ask my friend, "so did you figure out who that guy in Vermont was?" He'd always toss me a look of pure disappointment; clearly this was something he thought a lot about, maybe even something that kept him up at nights. I wondered about the dark circles under his eyes.

All of this was the status quo until, that is, last week, when out of the blue, and without prompting, I got an email from him titled - "The actor we saw in Vermont." The rest of the email consisted of just a name and two simple links:

Robert Vaughn - http://serialy.mirekholy.net/data/hustle/wallpapery/robert_vaughn.jpg

http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001816/

Thank you Robert Vaughn for bringing us to the brink of madness.