Keep in mind that there are non-qualifying celebrities. It is not enough to be a familiar public figure. As a rule, politicians do not qualify. In Washington, DC, they are as commonplace as pigeons in the park.

Most acceptable celebrities are stars of films, the stage, television, or the music world. They must be instantly recognizable by name. It is not enough to mumble to yourself, "I know her face. I just can’t bring up her name. I saw her in a movie just last year, opposite what’s-his-name." By then, the bird has flown. Even if the name comes to you the next day, this is definitely not a qualifying sighting.

It is also necessary to be close enough to the celebrity to be absolutely certain of his identity. How many hapless spotters have claimed a celebrity glimpsed briefly across the street or ducking around a corner. This is not qualifying. There must be no doubt at all in the spotter’s mind. He must be able to say, "That is definitely Harrison Ford, no doubt about it." This is not as simple as it sounds. Keep in mind how often Elvis has been spotted since his death. Since I am not a spiritualist, I suspect that all these sightings have been bogus.

Another important rule. The dice shouldn’t be loaded. It doesn’t count, for example, to wait outside the theater on Academy Awards night, where a life list can be extended by hundreds of celebrities. Nor is it qualifying to stand outside a stage door, autograph book in hand, waiting for a star to emerge. A true celebrity spotter does not ambush, nor does he seek autographs. The spotter does not, as a rule, speak to the celebrity or even betray that he has recognized him. The hallmarks of the spotter are dignity and self-control. A meaningful glance may pass between spotter and celebrity, but that is all.

Some spotting locales are more productive than others, just as some places boast more bird species than others. I recall a state park in Indiana containing five species of woodpecker. During a short stroll, I spotted three of them. Cape May, New Jersey, and Sanibel Island, Florida, are two other locations rich in bird species, and birders frequently visit such places to extend their life lists. In celebrity spotting, the most promising locales are Los Angeles, New York City, and Palm Springs. It is perfectly acceptable for a spotter to visit such places on vacation to pick up a few new celebrities. My son, who lives in Olathe, Kansas, can go two years or more without spotting a celebrity, but he is free to drive to Branson, Missouri, on a weekend, where a trained eye can pick out a dozen country celebrities on the streets or in cafes.

One can carry the birding metaphor too far. An indispensable tool of bird watching, for instance, is a good pair of binoculars. In celebrity spotting, binoculars are of no use at all. They are cumbersome, intrusive, and occasionally illegal. The typical celebrity encounter is at a distance of a few feet to a few yards. I recall examining a Monet at the National Gallery one Sunday when I became aware of a man standing next to me who was also scrutinizing the work. It was a popular actor, Richard Chamberlain, a favorite of my wife. She spotted him moments after I did, confirming the sighting. Obviously, binoculars would have been so much excess baggage.

Not all qualifying celebrities are in the entertainment industry. I once sat in a barber chair in downtown Washington, DC, between chairs occupied by John L. Lewis, on my left, and Cyrus Ching, then the nation’s chief labor negotiator, on my right. They counted as two on my life list. If I were to run into Bill Gates on the street, he would count, but if I saw him testifying before a committee or in court, that would not qualify, any more than seeing a caged toucan in a neighbor’s house.

Now that I have set forth the ground rules of celebrity spotting, I will share with you some of the highlights of my own life list. My earliest sighting, when a teenager, was through the window of a Pennsylvania Railroad day coach, en route to New York. The train had jerked to a stop in Pittsburgh at 2 a.m., and I peered out my window to see Bud Abbott and Lou Costello conversing animatedly with a third man. With my nose pressed against the sooty glass, Abbott was no more than two feet away from me. It was what David Letterman calls "a brush with greatness."

So began my life list, which now numbers a modest 70 names. Spotted on the streets of Washington, for example, were Robert Ryan, Debbie Reynolds, a mature Margaret O’Brien, and walking his toy poodle on 18^th Street, Melvin Douglas. And late one evening in the Occidental Restaurant, I came across Sir Cedric Hardwicke, his scarlet-lined cape spread across two chairs, leaning on his walking stick. He was regaling three appreciative waiters with theatrical anecdotes.

In New York City on business, I hit a celebrity triple. Waiting for a light to change, I stood beside Percy Kilbride, who played Pa Kettle opposite Marjorie Main. A few minutes later, I passed Eddie Fisher leaving an office building. And that evening, at the Plaza, I saw Albert Salmi, one of my favorite character actors. A thoroughly satisfying day.

My most enthralling celebrity encounter took place in the cocktail lounge of the Algonquin Hotel in New York. My business partner and I had popped in there for a drink and were seated at a small table for two. In a moment, Alfred Hitchcock and a friend were deposited at the adjoining table, just inches away. This was during the time that Hitchcock was directing his own half-hour show on television, and he was complaining that network censors had turned thumbs down on a story by Ambrose Bierce. "It’s the one in which two crazy aunts put out the eyes of their niece with knitting needles. A perfectly delicious story."