This is what happens when The New Glamor is forsaken. So we're about to stop into a couple of those cute little boutiques on Franklin Boulevard just below tony Beachwood Canyon, but of course there's no freakin' parking anywhere, so we do the ol' park-at-Mayfair-Market-and-get-a-pack-of-gum-so-the-parking-attendant-won't-bust-you-and-make-you-move-your-car routine that those who know the area love so well. And whilst in line Keri Russell and that blonde cute boy that she (um, Felicity) knew in high school and followed to New York (we've only seen the first episode) come up behind us. Uh, Scott Speedman. They looked sporty, young and attractive like any other 20 something in there. They're giggly and seemingly on a sugar binge 'cause they're getting tons of gum and candy and the like.

As we leave the market and walk ever so slyly past the parking attendant, we immediately grab the wireless and dial up ... ah, um, well ... us (you have no idea how difficult using this damn "we" all the time is) to give ... us the scoop before we forget the details of our star sighting. We're yammering away as we cross the street and turn the corner, when we stop dead, mid-sentence and nearly drop the phone because standing right in front of us is the dreamboat of dreamboats, Jude Law! (If only you could have heard that message on "our" voicemail: "Hey, just saw Felicity and her boyfriend at the Mayfair and ... Oh our god, Jesus, oh, ah, gotta go." Slam. And then the next message explaining the horror of it all.) He's a little aloof - smoking a cigarette all alone - and sexy as hell. Of course this is nearly the only day in three years that we've (well, one of us, the other one of us has only newly been subsumed into The New Glamor) left the house without lipstick and feeling a mess. Needless to say, we ducked into the next store to compose ourselves, apply lipstick and breathe. But when we alight, all casual and exquisite, he's GONE! Never again will we fly in the face of fashion. The horror. The horror.

Luckily, we were cute as bug's ears when we saw that little bitty piece of dearness, John Mahoney. Okay, that might be the last way you'd ever describe the guy who plays Frasier's dad, but if you've seen the myriad works he's appeared in for the last who knows how many years, you'll certainly love him as we do. Generally we find him very sexy, but he was in total sweet kitty mode when we saw him at LA Studios, a posh recording studio in the Cahuenga Pass. We're sitting there, minding our own business, when in he walks. It's so very startling to have a beloved character actor suddenly in your face like that. And the thing is, you know when he's in very smiley friendly and cute mode on "Frasier?" That's exactly what he was like in person! Who woulda thought? We always figured he'd be kind of tough and sexy. He's was such a butter bean we wanted to squeeze his darling head off.

And that brings us to our final thought for these Stars Upon Thars pages: in the immortal words of Casey Kasem - keep reaching for the stars. But no groping. It's rude.