In 2005, in Riverside Park, I was visiting my oldest friend, who was nursing a damaged shoulder after a bicycling accident. A rumpled-looking older man ambled toward us, and we anticipated an awkward encounter.
As the guy got closer, we both recognized him as Jerry Stiller, but he started talking before my friend & I could acknowledge this to each other.
Jerry removed his Bose noise canceling headphones to ask my friend about the sling he was wearing, and they got into a pain management conversation, because he was well into physical therapy for recent shoulder surgery. Quite subtly, my friend and I exchanged mutually confirming, "You do realize who this is, right?" glances, and at a suitable time, I asked Stiller's opinion about his critically-lauded headphones, which were a hot new product at the time. Without skipping a beat, he removed them from his shoulders and handed them to me to decide for myself.
The padding of the ear enclosures was notably and memorably sweaty, and all outside noise was filtered out, so that now I watched Jerry & Doug in animated conversation that was silent to me. The music, playing at a surprisingly restrained volume from a portable CD player, was very good recent mainstream jazz, possibly Joshua Redman with Brad Mehldau, but I can't recall if I asked.
I accepted the episode as a casual encounter between to long-time Upper West Siders, one in his 70s and one in his 50s. No celebrity fawning, just kibitzing between two generations of New Yorkers of a certain type.
RIP. Frank Costanza (and SO much more)