One gloomy afternoon, Adam looked up looked up from his work only to see the only one and only George C. strolling up to his shack, all by lonesome, just like the other George. Gobel, that is. (Look him up, young 'un) On a midweek day off from filming OKLAHOMA CRUDE, George thought he'd kill a few hours on the links. After the first nine holes, the lure of an adult beverage or two proved alluring enough to put the game on hold for awhile. Being a slow day, he was my dad's sole customer that afternoon.
The rain began to fall, enough to cancel the remainder of General Patton's game entirely. Instead of calling it a day, George stayed put at the shack to consume a few more highballs and pound down half a pack of unfiltered Lucky Strikes. He passed the time away with my pop, chatting about this, that and the other thing. Since Dad was an experienced bartender from the old school, he undoubtedly treated Mr. Scott like a regular Joe and I'm sure he appreciated the normalcy of it. At that time, he was still riding on that PATTON gravy train and one of the biggest movie stars in the world. Flying solo and under the radar as it was that day, he probably wanted to feel grounded. And there was nobody that was more down to earth than my dad.
When the rain subsided, George decided to call it a day and hit the muddy trail.
"Besides, the wife's making soup for dinner," he told my dad. "You know you've got yourself a good woman if she can make you a good bowl of soup."
With that, he shook my dad's hand goodbye and tottled off to the house the studio rented rented for him while on location. That evening, my dad presented me with an autograph signed by the one only George C. Scott and relayed the soup story.