In the year 1974 dinosaurs roamed the Earth, I was 10 years old and had the biggest crush on Olivia Newton John. This could be embarassing to many but to me, Olivia Newton John was the second greatest girl in the world.

Keep in mind, this was long before “Grease” and Olivia was a country rock singer with the sweetest voice. Olivia was Shania before Shania. Bigger than “The Dixie Chicks”. Olivia was blond, friendly and smart. Her albums showed her playing with labradors and horses. She smiled and ran and was unattainable. Olivia Newton John was a grown up version of the greatest girl in the world, my crush from kindergarten on, Ann Daley. Both blond, both beautiful, both brilliant, both unattainable.

At 12, I recall reading that the then probably 27 year old Olivia was dating her “manager”. I didn’t even really know what a manager was but I do remember thinking it trite. Olivia could do better, I figured. Heck, Olivia could have me, one of the best 12 year old pure basketball shooters in South Carolina. What more could a newly minted inter-Continential Superstar want?

As the years went on, Olivia became an even bigger star as she left all country music behind and became more of a pop star. It was a time ruled by the “John’s”. Elton John ruled the airways along with Olivia. Tommy John threw baseballs for the Dodgers and Port-A-Johns were America’s favorite outdoor toilet. Heady days.

Olivia went from dating her manager to dating her “record producer”. I recall thinking it trite. Olivia could do better. She could have me. A 15 year old basketball player for perhaps the worst and least friendly private school in America.

Soon after, “Grease” came out and Olivia was bigger than ever. I loved everything but the last 5 minutes of the movie where Olivia threw away her good girl image to become a tramp in black leather as a way to attract John Travolta. I much prefered the good girl but America loved the tramp. But hey, that’s America.

Olivia dated John Travolta and Eric Estrada from “Chips”, I gathered. Seemed trite to me, once again. But who was I but a kid going to a ghetto high school wasting time hitting golf balls and shooting baskets. Still, I thought that Olivia hung the moon. (”Hung the moon”? What am I 94 years old?)

Years went by, I stuck with Olivia. Dated a girl in College who was our campuses closest version to Olivia.

When I went to sleep at night, if I wasn’t listening to classic Elton John or Genesis, it easily could have been Olivia Newton John on tape serenading me to sleep. This is so humbling but even in those days when Olivia concerts would come on H.B.O., I would wake up whatever time of the night they aired to watch even if it was 3 A.M. I know that sounds pityful but it was a time before VCR’s, much less DVD’s and I adored Olivia Newton John even as she broke up with this and that Hollywood hot shot. “Physical” was the biggest album in the land in a period where people actually paid for recorded music. Oh, and dinosaurs roamed the Earth.

I loved Olivia so much that I even saw the movie “Zanadu” with a girl perhaps EVEN more beautiful than Olivia. My “date” found me as odd as I found Olivia kinetic and we only dated a couple of times.

It was on the set of “Zanadu” that Olivia met the man she married, a very handsome younger man that was a part time model and actor. The reason he did it “part time” is that it is very hard to get full time work as a model/actor because each job takes only minutes to do and there are many hours to fill in the day.

Olivia and this gent married and had a daughter. I went on to become a stand-up comedian and comedy writer in L.A.

Somehow, I was ok with the fact that Olivia had married another man. I had girlfriends with whom I napped late at night. So why should Olivia be alone? Even if Olivia could’ve had me.

I gathered from a friend, Don, that writes for a national magazine that Olivia’s husband was a good egg. Somehow, this bit of inside knowledge made me happy.

My friend went to Olivia’s house to write an article on her and while walking the property with her mate, Olivia’s husband offered my pal a joint. Even as a non-toker, I did appreciate his willingness to share. And figured that he must make Olivia happy there on the cliffs of Malibu, the handsome part time model, even if he had a career perhaps less significant than my own.

A few years later, I learned that Olivia was getting less than pleased with her Husband. I heard stories through friends that she had yelled at him something to the effect of “You lazy bum, why don’t you go get a REAL job.”. Oh, if I only had a dollar for every time a woman has yelled that at a man. Heck, if I had a dollar for every time a woman has yelled that at me. Then I wouldn’t need a real job.

It was about then that I figured it was not so great to be a Celebrity.

Here I am a minor comedian, a minor comedy writer and I know all about Olivia Newton John’s business from the time she was 22. I know that her Father was a noted teacher, her grandfather the Noble Prize winng physicist, Max Born and some stuff so personal (and perhaps incorrect) that I would never write it in public.

I was feeling sorry for Olivia.

Sure enough, a divorce came along. Long before I ever married and longer still before my divorce came tumbling along.

Olivia ran a business successfully and then lost it. I ran a business successfully and then lost it.

Olivia battled and beat breast cancer. Her daughter grew to be smart and beautiful.

I thought I might have pancreatic cancer. (I did not.) My son grew to be smart and handsome.

Then about a year or so ago, I heard on some trashy entertainment program that Olivia’s live-in “boyfriend” had fallen off a boat and drowned. His body was never recovered.

I saw some film of the guy and he seemed like a creep. But still I do not wish creeps dead even as I thought “Wow, Olivia could do better.”. She could have had me.

Olivia spoke of the tragedy. And again, somehow, without ever having known her on any genuine level, I honestly felt supportive.

About 6 months later, there were reports that the “boyfriend” was discovered at a resort area of Baja in Mexico with another woman. He had faked his own death and not for insurance money. It appeared from these reports that he faked his own death just to get out of debts and perhaps his relationship with Olivia.

Wow!!

Could Olivia be so difficult that a man would fake his own death just to get away from her? That’s just not possible.

Could a woman go from being everything that is light, pure and happy to such a miserable shrew that a bum will pretend to drown at sea just so he does not have to sleep beside the star of “Grease”, “Zanadu” and my every boyhood fantasy of warmth, romance and happiness. No, that’s just not possible.

And I thought “Wow, it really sucks to be a Celebrity.”. I’ve had some break-ups that were more than humbling. But even the suggestion that your boyfriend had faked his own death was beyond my imagination. This sort of thing to happen and be broadcast coast to coast.

A break-up is bad enough without a possible faked death being part of “Entertainment Tonight” and “People” and “US” Magazines. And then you get the bonus of all the “investigative journalists” being sent to Mexico and your house to “seek the truth”. Wow, it must suck being a Celebrity most days.

Her “Ex beau” was never found in Mexico although Investigative Journalists probably drank 6 metric tons of tequila with billing to their respective Networks.

I felt sorry for Olivia. She could have had me.

Not so long ago, a friend told me about a mutual friend of ours, David, that is a comedy writer for Bill Maher. David was flying cross country and was bumped up to First Class. Sitting in the seat next to him was Olivia Newton John.

David got the impression from Olivia’s body language that she did not want to talk. HE knew that she was Olivia Newton John. SHE knew that she was Olivia Newton John. And nothing that he could say about loving her “I Honestly Love You” record could possibly matter on this flight. Olivia wanted to be left alone. She seemed to be wondering why John Travolta was piloting his own G-5 and she was stuck drinking Sprite next to some middle aged oaf in jeans.

Somehow, they did start some minor conversation and it came out that my pal is a comedy writer. This was interesting to Olivia. She said that she was going to speak at some cancer fundraiser with other dignitaries and politicians, which she does all the time as a supporter of cancer research, and that she wished she could inject some humor into her speeches. She asked our friend David if he had any suggestions for her?

David had a few jokes but the one I remember and the one that made Olivia Newton-John laugh so hard that she snorted was this…”I’m glad to be here as a cancer survivor. It’s frightening discovering that you have cancer. And speaking of unwanted tumors, I see that tonight George Pataki is here.”. David says that making Sprite come out of Olivia Newton John’s nose because she was laughing so hard was the highlight of his comedy career.

I don’t know what the highlight of my comedy career is but it certainly does not involve Olivia Newton John. The only thing that has ever involved Olivia were my hopes, dreams and peaceful bedtime thoughts. I believe that just having a cup of tea with Olivia and discussing Orphans and charity and the deliciousness of the tea would be the highlight of my career.

What one second? Who says that dreams can’t come true.

Hmmm…so Olivia loves comedians.

I am a comedian.

Olivia loves a man with a job.

Hmmm…I have a job. Heck, I have several jobs. I’m practically Jamaican

Olivia supports cancer research

Hmmm…I support cancer research. I mean, c’mon, what are AIDS Orphans but kids effected by cancer? I support them every day.

Hmmm…Olivia can still have me.

Lets piece it together.

I honestly love her and always have from the time I was 10. And if by some abstract impossibility, we should ever break up, I will leave her house the way I came…by 91 Lexus. And I will never, ever under any circumstance fake my own death to get away. The Lexus works fine.

I will never embarass her either privately or publicly. I take out the trash and cut the grass. I’ll never need money, I’ve done quite well to this point without much of it. And have never much bothered anyone for it in the past.

Heck, I’m even in Malibu all the time for my very important consulting job as the “Ambassador of Fun” for Malibu Country Club.

Olivia, I’ve made my case. I could be the man for you or at least a decent man with whom to have a cup of tea and talk.

I believe that I just might understand you. (Something I have been oh so wrong about in the past.)

I understand how hard it is to be a Celebrity. I’m as handsome today as I am ever going to be. I’m funny and loyal. Take me as I am and I will oh so happily do the same.

Just call. If nothing else, I bet we can help some Orphans with cancer.