{"id":162273,"date":"2026-02-20T09:35:12","date_gmt":"2026-02-20T14:35:12","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/?p=162273"},"modified":"2026-02-20T09:39:49","modified_gmt":"2026-02-20T14:39:49","slug":"ron-eldard","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/?p=162273","title":{"rendered":"It’s Ron Eldard’s Birthday: the first famous person I interviewed"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/p>\n

Here’s the story of the first famous person I interviewed – an actor I had admired for a long time: Mr. Ron Eldard.<\/p>\n

I saw the excellent Roadie<\/i> at the Tribeca Film Festival. Eldard plays a roadie fired from his long-time gig with the Blue Oyster Cult. With supporting cast of Lois Smith, Bobby Cannavale and Jill Hennessey, Roadie<\/i> is an excellent character-study with a great sense of place. I wrote a favorable review of it<\/a> for what was then Capital New York (now rebuilt on my own site). The film hadn’t been released yet, so for a time, there, mine was the only review that came up when you searched the film. This is how the producer of Roadie<\/i>, Mike Downey, found me. He reached out through email to thank me. <\/p>\n

8 or so months later, Roadie<\/i> was about to be released, and I suddenly got the idea that I should maybe ask for an interview with Eldard, sort of to point people towards the upcoming release of this little indie film. I decided to take a risk (or, it felt like a risk at the time) and reached out to Mike to see if he could set up an interview with Ron. (I had no PR contacts at the time, like I do now.)<\/p>\n

\n\"\"<\/p>\n

This was all new for me. I had never done it before. I had no idea how things were supposed to work. I didn’t realize the “power” I had, as someone who loved this small film, who had reviewed it, who was championing it. Of COURSE they would want me to interview Ron – of COURSE they would say Yes, etc. But I didn’t really know this at the time. I almost felt shy asking for the interview. Mike, though, of course, was enthusiastic, and hooked up the two of us via text message.<\/p>\n

I was not accustomed to any of this, and I tried to contain my nervousness and adolescent-type shyness. I texted Ron Eldard, saying “Thank you for agreeing to be interviewed. Could we set up a time in the next couple of days?”<\/p>\n

I had a slight sense of urgency about this because:<\/p>\n

1. I wanted to interview him before the film opened – which was like 6 days away and
\n2. I was headed on a road trip to Memphis, and I wanted to get this in the bag before I left and
\n3. I now know that I was in a full-blown undiagnosed-mania. I had been sleeping 3 hours a night for months. <\/p>\n

So I text Eldard, being so careful with my words – very shy – not really “getting” that I wasn’t bothering him at ALL. I wasn’t a fan, I was a writer who was looking to highlight his work in the film. All of that being said: <\/p>\n

5 days go by. Ron Eldard does not respond to my text. I’m not sure what to do. It was my worst fear. I’m bothering him. I’m some rando weirdo texting him. He’s busy. But I wasn’t sure what to do. Should I text him AGAIN? But that put me into stalker mode. Mike had assured me “Ron” wanted to be interviewed. I was slightly in a panic. <\/p>\n

Meanwhile, I head out to Memphis. I text Mike from the road on my first day of driving, saying – “Hi – I haven’t heard back from Ron and I’m not sure what to do …” <\/p>\n

He texts me instantly, “I’ll text him. Hang on.”<\/p>\n

Within seconds – SECONDS – I get a phone call from Ron Eldard. I am on a lonely road in West Virginia when the phone rings. I pull over. I answer. <\/p>\n

“Hello?” <\/p>\n

Ron’s voice, in a panic: “Sheila?” <\/p>\n

“Yes, it’s me.” <\/p>\n

“It’s Ron Eldard.” <\/p>\n

“Oh! HI!” <\/p>\n

He says, frantic, “Did you text me?”<\/p>\n

I said, “Yes, about 5 days ago.” (I said this with zero “attitude”. Totally chipper, trying to project “no big deal” to him through the phone.) <\/p>\n

Eldard moans in dismay, “I must have missed it –” <\/p>\n

“Oh, that’s okay –” <\/p>\n

“Oh my God, you must have thought I was such a DICK.”<\/p>\n

lol<\/p>\n

I said, “No! No I just figured you were busy – no problem – ” <\/p>\n

“I am SO sorry.” <\/p>\n

Meanwhile, I was frantically fumbling through my purse for my voice recorder – which I had brought along with me – JUST IN CASE this moment occurred.<\/p>\n

His horror at his own inadvertent rudeness was genuine. He was imagining me walking around seething, bad-mouthing him in my mind. Why am I so charmed by this? Meanwhile, though, I had been having an anxiety attack like I was stalking him, or like I was working up my courage to ask him to the Sadie Hawkins dance. I could tell he was a good egg by his response. He has integrity. <\/p>\n

I am literally pulled off onto the grassy side of a country road, and I do the interview with him then and there. We talked for 45 minutes, way more than could ever be included in the interview. He was funny, forthcoming, smart, loved talking about the movie, loved answering my questions, he was awesome. <\/p>\n

As it winds down, I thank him for his time and I don’t know why I told him this next thing – chalk it up to my single-minded mania which led me to drive to Memphis in the first place – I said, “I’m on my way to Graceland for Elvis’ birthday.”<\/p>\n

He said, “Wait. What?” <\/p>\n

“I am driving to Memphis right now for Elvis’ birthday.” <\/p>\n

He exploded, “Holy shit you are gonna have so much fun!!” <\/p>\n

“Have you been?” <\/p>\n

“I’ve never been – but – I wrote a whole monologue from the perspective of the biggest Elvis fan in the world.”<\/p>\n

Now it was my turn to say, “Wait. What?” He then told me the story of this monologue he wrote, from the perspective of an Elvis fan who had Elvis all worked out astrologically and numerically – how Elvis’ birthday aligned w\/the planetary systems and how when you add it all up, it means this this and this. Wait. WHAT?<\/p>\n

He was laughing as he told me all this – “So, Elvis was born on January 8, 1935, right?” (I was like, “Holy shit, yes, fanboy!”) “–and so if you add up all those numbers – 1 for January and then 8, 1, 9, 3, 5 … you get the same equation that adds up to blah blah blah…”<\/p>\n

We talked for 20 more minutes about Elvis. He was not only “kind” about me blurting out this random information, he was INTO it, and had a LOT to say about Elvis!<\/p>\n

Later that night, in my isolated motel on the edge of a thick forest, I drank whiskey out of a plastic cup and transcribed the interview. I had to write it all up that night and send it off to the editors, so it could go up before the movie opened. <\/p>\n

As I listened to our voices coming out of the little recorder, I had a couple of moments hearing our laughter, our guffaws about Elvis-obsessions – and thought, “Wow. I pulled my shit together on this one.” I had been so nervous. There was no need to be nervous. None at all. <\/p>\n

\n\"\" <\/p>\n

\nSo that’s the story of my interview with Ron Eldard, on a bumpy lonely road in West Virginia. <\/p>\n

It’s still the most fun I’ve had doing an interview. Since Capital New York vanished from the internet and was absorbed into Politico, I rebuilt the interview here on my own site. Interview with Ron Eldard about Roadie<\/i>.<\/a><\/p>\n

And see Roadie<\/i>!<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

\n 
\n 
\nThank you so much for stopping by. If you like what I do, and if you feel inclined to support my work, here’s a link to my Venmo account<\/a>. And I’ve launched a Substack, Sheila Variations 2.0<\/a>, if you’d like to subscribe.<\/em> <\/small><\/p>\n