LOL. I grew up in Palm Springs. I was 3 and a devout nudist (mrR remembers), we lived at one of the country clubs on the 9th hole. My mother’s design studio faced the golf course and she would turn me loose while she worked.
So, one Saturday, there was a celebrity golf tournament hosted by William Demarest (My Three Sons). I got out (totally naked) and started stealing the golf balls, which I thought was a great game. One of the balls was Henry Kissinger’s. He tried to catch me on the golf cart and I thought it was great fun so I kept running and he kept chasing me, yelling. I was caught and returned to my mother, who promptly got a VERY VERY nasty letter from the Country club about the incident.
Nearly everyone who grew up in Palm Springs has at least one celebrity story, I have several and they are ALL embarrassing....
My imagination painted a much more exciting, lurid story.