Nothing as earth-shattering as a pontential junta, but I think I saw Jennifer Connelly yesterday. At the Tot Lot.
Ben was sacked out in the stroller, but Zach clearly wanted to play, so we were in the park on a sunny Sunday afternoon. The Tot Lot was its usual cute-fest, with tiny kids crawling all over. There was a sandy-haired dad, noticeable for his Brit accent, doing what all good parents do at the Tot Lot: a combination of commentary on the kids, chit-chat with the other parents, and refereeing squabbles over toys. Later I noticed he was with a woman, who was wearing a "the only bush i trust is my own" shirt, which had been an entry in the Designs on the White House contest. Which I might have mentioned, if Zach hadn't been crawling up the slide at that point. And then another woman was with them -- apparently they were all together -- and I thought, that looks like Jennifer Connelly.
I'm pretty sure it was. Clues: her husband is, in fact, a sandy-haired Brit, Paul Bettany, who played Russell Crowe's roommate in A Beautiful Mind. They have a son, named after Stellan Skarsgård, who's about the right age. And they live in New York.
The clincher, though, was the Bugaboo stroller. Those things run $730. Pocket change for those movie stars, you know.
Now, Jennifer and I have a long history together. She was in my class at Yale. Early on freshman year, I happened to be in her common room, talking to one of her roomates, when she comes in, towel around her head, tears in her eyes. Clearly, something's quite wrong. She announces that she has to cancel her lunch date with "Sun," but doesn't have his number. "6-0123," I announced. She looked at me like Rain Man was sitting on her couch, some weird guy who had memorized everyone's phone number. "He's my roommate," I offered by way of explanation.
Later on, I happened to be at dinner in Commons (alas for dinner in Commons!) at a table with her and several others. I'm not going to talk about her being a movie star, I thought. I'm sure she's sick of that. Be cool. But some yackle at the table insisted on asking her about the movies. Doofus.
And then a few years ago, I happened to be in the same sandwich shop in the Village -- some health foodie place. It occured to me later (l'esprit d'escalier!) that I should have said "pardon me, but you look familiar. Did you go to Yale?"
That I didn't try that line yesterday is either a testament to my increased maturity, or to the fact that Zach was trying to eat sidewalk chalk at the time. Your pick.
