Anything Goes : Remembering Philip Seymour Hoffman by Tom Gurnee

About a year and half ago, I was visiting with friends at Cafe Primo on Sunset Blvd. It was one of Stephen Mitchell's typical Wednesday evening "Elysee Wednesday" gatherings. There was a group of about 8 - 10 of us that evening and we were all having quite a good time. Around 9pm, a gentleman walked in and sat down alone two tables away from us. He was blonde, a bit heavy set, his hair was somewhat disheveled and he was wearing a worn, plain, white t-shirt. It was Philip Seymour Hoffman. Celebrities are seen to frequent this cafe every so often so it wasn't a big deal that he was there of course. But still, having an Oscar winner come in and sit down relatively next to you is kinda cool to say the least. Our group's discussion elevated into an even livelier and fun time and after about 20 - 25 minutes of seeing Mr. Hoffman still sitting there by himself I decided to ask him if he wanted to join us. He wasn't eating dinner or having any dessert. He wasn't reading or talking or texting. Just killing time, perusing the internet on his phone from what I could gather. Hence, it didn't look like I would disturb him so I figured, "Why not?" So, up I rose to get a glass of water and on the way back I stopped at his table, said hello and asked him if he cared to join us. "Hello Mr. Hoffman. My name is Tom Gurnee. If you're by yourself this evening, you're welcome to join us at our table. We're having a pretty good time talking about acting and other fun things like Ferraris if you're interested." Philip smiled and said thank you very much to me. Unfortunately (for us), he was meeting someone there and they were running a little late. "Well, all the best then." And that was that. My personal encounter with a hallmark of our industry who left us way too soon. I can say he was kind in declining and seemed genuinely grateful for my offer. With Philip's passing, I think back on that evening and wonder "what if". What if he had said yes and joined us that night? (Boy that would have been fun…) Or, and perhaps more importantly, what if I had not taken a risk to politely say hello. Right now I would probably be cursing myself for not taking that chance when the opportunity to do so was so close at hand. So, with the news, I look back and I pat myself on the back for taking that risk, for I am left now with a pleasant memory of speaking (albeit briefly) to a man that left such an indelible mark upon our industry. How lucky and blessed I am...