I lunched with a friend Friday whom I know from the news business, and we talked about the passing of David Crosby. “He was the voice of a generation,” she said. A generation that’s mostly retired.

I wasn’t around when Billie Holiday was innovating jazz vocals, or the Glenn Miller Orchestra made swing a thing. But I knew who they were. Walk into any newsroom today and if someone of Crosby’s stature dies, you’re more likely to hear “Who?” than “Oh, wow.” (“Kids these days!” I rant, raising a bony fist.) Obits are quickly cobbled together from a Wikipedia search, and they sound like it. Why have news writers? Just ask ChatGPT to write the obituary!

I then told my friend about the time I saw David Crosby approach actor John Forsythe in a restaurant. She loved the story. “That’s a good one,” she laughed, especially when I told her the punchline.

So I thought I’d share it here.

I’ve lived in Los Angeles for all but four years of my life. I was born here. I can count on two hands the times I’ve seen a celebrity out and about, aside from covering awards shows or court cases. Once, when family was visiting from the Bay Area, I tried to impress them by lunching at The Ivy in Beverly Hills. I hoped we’d see a movie star. Sure enough, there was Keanu Reeves! “Who?” my sister-in-law asked, nonplussed. #fail

But I was floored one night in 1999 when I was 100 miles north of Hollywood and saw three of the biggest names in entertainment. None of them were together. It was completely random.

Here’s what happened.

My husband and I were visiting relatives in Los Olivos, up in Santa Barbara wine country. It’s an area made famous in the film “Sideways.” We decided to have a date night, so we left the kids with family and went to a wonderful Italian restaurant called Grappolo in the town of Santa Ynez.

The sun had set, the lights were low, and we were seated at a corner table with a full view of the restaurant. A few minutes later, David Crosby and his wife, Jan Dance, walked in and were seated next to us. We knew they lived in the area, but we’d never seen them.

My husband’s eyes grew wide. He was a huge CSN (+/-Y) fan. We played it cool, though, and avoided eye contact.

Not longer afterwards, actor John Forsythe walked in! At the age of 80, he looked dapper in a doubled-breasted navy jacket. Now my eyes grew wide. I had religiously watched “Dynasty” back in the 1980s— it was ABC’s answer to the CBS juggernaut, “Dallas” — and here was Blake Carrington!

Forsythe’s dining companion was a man who seemed to know everyone in town. My husband and I dubbed him “the honorary mayor of Santa Ynez.” He greeted everyone, including David Crosby, as he and Forsythe took the adjacent booth.

Suddenly, David got up from his seat to walk over to the veteran actor. My husband was in the middle of a sentence about — well, who cares? — and I shushed him. I tapped into my bionic ear to listen with all my might. (#LindsayWagner)

Crosby appeared a little shy, even starstruck. Forsythe clearly had no idea who he was. “David is a musician,” explained the actor’s friend. Forsythe replied with something cordial, like, “Oh, how nice.”

The musician then told Forsythe that his father, Floyd Crosby, had been a cinematographer in Hollywood. Floyd even won a 1931 Oscar for the movie, “Tabu.” Perhaps they’d crossed paths?

Forsythe paused for a brief moment and said, “No, I don’t recall him.” He flashed a smile, but Crosby’s shoulders drooped. They exchanged their “Nice to meet yous,” and David returned to the booth next to us, looking a little dejected.

Stars are fans, just like us! Stars feel awkward, just like us!

Frankly, I was a little surprised that in a town as small as Santa Ynez, the two had never met before.

Meantime, my husband was dying to know what had transpired. “I’ll tell you later in the parking lot,” I mouthed.

We quickly dug into dinner (delicious!), and left.

And here’s the punchline.

As we walked into the parking lot, I started to tell him what happened, saying how incredible it was to see two famous people in one night! But then I stopped.

There was Jeff Bridges.

Dude.

Mic drop.

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

So that’s the most Hollywood story I’ve got. And it wasn’t even in Hollywood.

By the way, I asked ChatGPT “Who was David Crosby?” to test my theory that news writers may find themselves increasingly irrelevant. Well, kids, you don’t have to look for work yet. The Bot thinks Crosby is still alive. Someone needs to update the software!

David Crosby and John Forsythe: When Stars…