My wife and I had lunch recently at Michael’s in Santa Monica with Academy Award -winning actor Tom Hanks.

We had cheese ravioli. He had cold vegetable soup and Michael’s great sourdough rolls.

I couldn’t help thinking to myself as we drank and ate how normal this guy is.  And how very much like the characters he plays in the movies.  His gestures were those of Viktor Navorski in The Terminal (2004) and even Captain John H. Miller in Saving Private  Ryan (1998).

Tom’s hair is very long – still in the style he sports as Robert Landon in The DaVinci Code – and as he speaks he regularly runs his left hand through the long locks at the back of his head, grouping them briefly into a ponytail and then releasing them.  On his left hand he wears both an expensive watch – looks like a Rolex but I was too discrete to ask – and a silver band.  Both are worn loosely and slide up and down with each subconscious stroke of his own hair.

We are eating on the outdoor patio and Tom is in the corner seat of the corner table.  He is at ease.  He is pleasant with the wait staff and seems impervious to the polite stares he gets from others who obviously recognize him, but also allow him his space.  Not once during our lunch do I spot Tom glancing around the restaurant.  Perhaps he knows from experience it is better not to make eye contact with strangers.

Although I’m a veteran journalist, I can’t help but be a little star struck.  Hanks did, after all, win back-to-back Academy Awards.  And he has starred in many of my wife’s and my favorite movies.  She’s partial to Sleepless in Seattle (1993); I’m a space fanatic and loved Apollo 13 (1995); and my kids first met Tom in Toy Story (1995) and then rediscovered him on DVD in Big (1988).

But I overcome my inner child and instead observe the scene professionally.  “How amazing,” I think as he bites down on his roll, “is the Hollywood publicity machine?”  Here is a guy, sitting just across from me, who is roughly my age and in person is about as normal as paint to watch.  Yet,  through the mechanism of TV, film and publicity Tom Hanks has become instantly recognizable the world over.

 
At once Hanks is both a normal guy and a global superstar.  And PR had a lot to do with it.

As we drove home from our lunch, my wife and I discussed Tom and his life.  On the one hand, he is wealthy beyond imagination; is much beloved by his millions of fans; and gets to do fun things, meet interesting people and get seated at the best tables.

On the other hand, privacy is undoubtedly scarce for him.   And I’m not sure I’d trade my ability to sit and enjoy my wife’s company free of constantly prying eyes for his 24/7 fame.  

Hollywood and PR creates superstars.  Doing so helps sell tickets and it keeps Hollywood glamorous.  But like the many CEOs and billionaires I’ve met as a financial journalist, I see that Hollywood celebrities, too, are – at their core – just like you and me.  Everything else we think about them is special effects.

When it came time to pay for lunch, we went Dutch.  I paid for my wife and myself and we let Tom handle his check separately.  I would have gladly paid for his lunch as well, but undoubtedly Tom would have wondered why the guy and the lovely woman sitting at the table adjacent to his would pick up his tab. 

My wife and I left and promised to see Tom again soon.  At the movies.