Liza Campbell

This is a long story, but stay with me.

One of my more embarrassing teenage moments was when I attended an NYU summer session in 1980. I had just graduated from Durango (Colorado) High School. I was 17, had long, permed hair and a tiny little goatee like Errol Flynn. Simply put, I was extremely cool.

The class was Writing for Film & TV. The professor, Irving Falk, looked like Ray Walston ("Mr. Hand" from "Fast Times at Ridgemont High").

Now the exciting part:

There was a girl in the class. Liza Campbell. She was a classic blonde beauty, with a British accent. I would've married her in an instant without ever speaking to her.

For one writing assignment, I conveniently added the character of Liza, a beautiful exchange student from England, whom the hero (a genius teenage male) wins over in the end. So true to life.

At the next class session, Professor Falk suddenly decided to read my script to the class.

My thoughts: This is great. He likes my script. I'm a great writer. Oh, crap. He's not actually going to read it out loud. Is he?

He did. So I sat there and pretended not to feel Liza's eyes on the back of my head as I slunk down deeper in my chair feeling like a complete idiot.

About a week later, she sat at the desk next to mine, and after a moment or two of awkward silence, gently said, "You shyved your bid."

I said, "What?"

She repeated, "You shyved your bid."

"Huh?" Sweat. Nervousness.

"Your bid," she said, pointing to my chin. "You shyved it ofe."

Ah, the beard. Yes, yes. I shaved it off. 'Cause it made me look like an idiot. But the fact that you noticed makes me want to marry you again.

Fast forward. 2007. Amazon.com. A book. A familiar-looking name. Liza Campbell, Liza Campbell, where do I know that name?

So I read the jacket cover. And it turns out she's the daughter of a Scottish Earl and was born in Macbeth's castle. I'm not up on my royalty, so I don't know what it all means. But she's still beautiful at 47.

And that's my story for the day.