Two members of my immediate family have at some point run into Jimmy. One day my pop, a traveling salesman askes me "Son, have you ever heard of a fellow named Jimmy Page?"
"Uhh yes, Dad. Why?"
"Well He is a nice guy; I met him in the Delta Crown Room at the Atlanta Airport. I told him you played the guitar too. He's a scotch drinker." (In my father's lexicon, this identifies him as a personality type)
Apparently Jimmy was drinking Chivas.
As surreal as that is, what is even more bizaare and more in keeping with the title of this thread was my brother's chance meeting with Page. Imagine the most Non-Page place on the planet. That's right, my brother met our man Jimmy at. . . . wait for it. . . . Walt Disney World in Orlando, Florida.
Jimmy was VIP-ing, no waiting, front of the line-ing. My brother recognized him, and Jimmy was nice enough to have a picture with my brother.
He did not have on a mouse ear hat.
What a strange place the world is.