Can you guess the iconic actor who went from living in a rundown New York “flophouse” for just $150 a month to owning a peaceful farm with his family?
This actor’s humble beginnings are a far cry from his current life of farm animals and fresh home-grown veggies. Growing up, he knew from an early age that he wanted to be an actor.
After trips to the movie theater, he would come home and immediately dress up as one of the characters from the film, fully immersing himself in the world of make-believe. His favorite childhood toy? A box of old clothes his mom had saved for him, which he used to fuel his imagination and creativity.
Wanted the ”real thing”
In 1976, fresh out of Philadelphia, he moved to New York City to chase his dream of acting. He spent months crashing on his sister’s couch before finding a cheap place through an ad in the Village Voice – a no-frills, budget-friendly “artist’s residence.”
Though the place was far from glamorous, it was exactly what he could afford at the time. In fact, the actor shared that it wasn’t even a single room – he had to move in with a roommate.
His roomie was a classical pianist, and the two shared the space for four years. In interviews, the actor fondly reminisces about the calming sounds of the piano that filled the apartment late at night.
While living in The Big Apple, the actor appeared in a production at the Circle in the Square Theater School. ”I wanted life, man, the real thing,” he later recalled to Nancy Mills of Cosmopolitan.
”The message I got was ‘The arts are it. Business is the devil’s work. Art and creative expression are next to godliness.’”
So, can you guess who this determined actor is?
He has a tall, lean frame and a signature look that’s a mix of rugged and charming.
With a square jaw and high cheekbones, he’s got a face that can go from intense to relatable in an instant. His light brown hair is often casually styled, and his deep-set eyes add a mysterious vibe. You might recognize his easy-going, yet timeless style that’s made him a fan favorite for decades. Can you guess who he is?
Alright, we won’t drag this out any longer.
While this Golden Globe Award winner was living in that tiny, $150-a-month space, he was also preparing for his big break.
Household name
Fast forward a few years, and he would go on to star in iconic films like Footloose, Beauty Shop, and The Woodsman, becoming a household name.
So here it is – it’s Kevin Bacon! From his early days as a young actor in New York to now living on a farm with his wife and their animals, his journey has truly been one to follow
Now, the actor is living a completely different life. He and his wife, fellow actress Kyra Sedgwick, now shares a 40-acre farm in Sharon, Connecticut. They have several animals, including goats, pigs, alpacas, and miniature horses.
”I love animals, they are a joy to be around, and they’re very, very calming for me,” Bacon said. ”But we also really love to go into the garden and get fresh herbs or tomatoes or basil or peppers or zucchini.”
And talk about how Bacon is living a completely different life today compared to his bachelor days in New York. He’s got more millions in the bank now – and doesn’t have to rely on his old roommate’s cooking skills anymore.
”He would cook,” Bacon said of his former roommate in New York.
”I didn’t know anything about cooking since I was used to going to the store and getting a sandwich or eating a slice of pizza.”
He added, ”And I watched my roommate, and he was a very frugal man so he was not going to go out and spend money to eat in a restaurant or even get something to go. He would make his own food and I got very inspired by that.”
Gradually, both Kevin and Kyra shares snippets of their daily lives on social media, with Sedgwick posting so many videos of her and their goats to TikTok that people now recognize her for it, rather than her acting roles.
“People were like, ’We love you singing with the goats.’ Kevin and I are like, ’Great, have you seen our movies or TV shows?’ But it makes people happy,” the actress and producer told People.
They even shared that his relationship with his animals has caused a shift in his eating habits — he no longer eats goat or pig products.
”It’s all about the animals,” Kevin says, adding that his wife won’t let him get any more animals, as he’d likely stop eating even more types of food. The couple also loves tending to their garden, growing fresh herbs, tomatoes, and peppers.
Interestingly, the Footloose star and Sedgwick aren’t the only celebs drawn to farm life. In fact, famed actress Jennifer Garner decided to buy back the farm her mother grew up on and transform it into an organic produce project for baby food.
Neighbors Made Me Put up a Fence to Hide an ‘Ugly’ Car in My Yard – A Week Later, They Begged Me to Remove It
I didn’t quite see my neighbors’ vintage ’67 Chevy Impala the same way, but to me it was more than just a rusty heap. What was supposed to be a fight over a “eyesore” developed into something none of us saw coming. It altered our peaceful suburban street in ways we never would have imagined.
My dad left me an ancient, beat-up 1967 Chevy Impala. I saw it as a project I wanted to restore and a reminder of my father, even though most people just saw it as a rusted automobile. My garage was piled high with tools and spare components, so the automobile sat in my yard. I’d been trying to save money and find time to work on it, but I knew it looked awful.
But my neighbors were far more concerned about this than I was. I was out inspecting the Impala one bright afternoon when I suddenly remembered something. Gus, my dad, was demonstrating how to change the oil. He smiled, his thick mustache twitching. “You see, Nate? It isn’t complicated science. Simply perseverance and hard work,” he had stated. A piercing voice jolted me back to reality as I was lost in thinking as I ran my fingers over the worn paint. A man leaning against a vintage car’s front end.
Please pardon me, Nate. Could we discuss about that? I turned to see my next-door neighbor, Karen, pointing disgustingly at the Impala. Hello, Karen. What’s going on?” Knowing where this was going, I asked.”That vehicle. It is aesthetically offensive. With crossed arms, she remarked, “It’s destroying the appearance of our street.” I exhaled. “I realize it appears rough right now, but I intend to fix it. It was my dad’s, but Karen cut him off, saying, “I don’t care whose it was.” It must be removed. or at the very least remain unseen. She pivoted and marched back to her house before I could reply.
As I watched her leave, I noticed a knot in my stomach. I vented to my girlfriend Heather over dinner later that night. “Do you think she’s real? “It seems as though she is unaware of the significance this car holds for me,” I remarked, picking at my salad. Squeezing my hand, Heather reached across the table. “I understand, sweetie. However, would you try working on it a little bit more quickly? simply to demonstrate to them your progress? I nodded, but I knew in my heart that it wasn’t that easy. Time was of the essence, and parts were costly.
When I returned home a week later, I discovered a notice from the city hidden beneath the wiper on my “offending” car. As I read it, my stomach fell. The general idea was to either remove the car or conceal it behind a fence. I clenched the piece of paper in my hand, feeling a surge of rage within. This was absurd. I required guidance. I picked up my friend Vince, who also loves cars. “Hey, buddy, have a moment? I’d like your opinion on something. Okay, what’s going on? Vince’s voice came across the phone crackling. I described the circumstances, becoming more irritated as I spoke. Before he spoke, Vince was silent for a while.
He spoke carefully and added, “Build the fence, but add a twist.” “What do you mean?” I curiously inquired.”You’ll discover. This weekend, I’ll be here. This will provide for some enjoyable times. Vince arrived that weekend with a truck full of paint and wood. For the next two days, we worked on erecting a towering fence to enclose my front yard. Vince told me about his strategy as we worked together. “We’re going to decorate this fence with a mural of the Impala. Every rust mark, every ding. We’ll make sure they remember the car if they decide to hide it. Loved the idea, I smiled. “Let’s get started.”On Sunday, we painted. Even though none of us was artistic, we were able to replicate the Impala on the fence really well.
For added effect, we even made some of the flaws seem worse. I was satisfied with my work when we took a step back to admire it. I decided to find out what the neighbors thought of this. It didn’t take me long to learn. There came a knock on my door the following afternoon. When I opened it, a cluster of neighbors surrounding Karen as she stood there. Their expressions were a peculiar mix of desperation and rage. “Nate, we need to talk about the fence,” Karen said in a tight voice. Hiding my delight, I leaned against the doorframe. How about it? I followed your instructions.
The automobile is now hidden.An older man called Frank, one of the other neighbors, raised his voice. We understand that we requested you to conceal the car, but this mural is simply too much, son. I arched an eyebrow. “Too much? In what way? Karen let out a deep sigh. “It’s more awful than the car itself. It appears as though you’ve transformed your entire yard into… “A show of art?” Unable to control my sarcasm, I made a suggestion. “A disgrace,” Karen firmly concluded. “We would prefer to see the actual car instead of this… monstrosity.”Maybe a little too much, I enjoyed their anguish as I crossed my arms. Now, allow me to clarify. You made me spend money on a fence after complaining about my automobile, and now you want me to pull it down? They all gave bashful nods.
After giving it some thinking, I decided to remove the fence—but only under one condition. As long as I’m working on fixing the car, you guys promise to quit whining about it. Alright?They glanced at one another before grudgingly agreeing. I could hear them whispering to each other as they left. I started tearing down the fence the following day. Some of my neighbors were seeing me work with interest. Even Tom, one of them, stopped over to talk. “I never really looked at that car before, Nate,” he remarked, pointing to the Impala. However, after getting a closer look, I can see that it has potential. Which year is it?I grinned, always up for a conversation about the car. It’s a 1967. When I was a little child, my dad purchased it. Tom gave a grateful nod. Good. My brother has a thing for vintage autos.
In the event that you require assistance with the restoration, I might contact him. I took aback at the offer. That would be fantastic. Regards, Tom. In the ensuing weeks, word of my initiative grew. To my astonishment, a number of neighborhood auto aficionados began dropping by to examine the Impala and provide guidance or assistance. I was working on the engine one Saturday morning when I heard a familiar voice behind me. “So, this is the well-known vehicle, huh?” I turned to see Karen standing there, intrigued yet seeming uneasy. I wiped my hands with a cloth and remarked, “Yep, this is her.” Karen moved in closer, staring at the motor. “I must admit that my knowledge of autos is quite limited.
How are you spending your time? Startled by her curiosity, I gave the bare outline of the project I was working on. More neighbors flocked around to listen and ask questions while we conversed. My yard quickly became the scene of an unplanned block party. A cooler full of drinks was brought out, and individuals started talking about their early automotive experiences or their recollections of owning vintage automobiles. I was surrounded by my neighbors as the sun was setting, and we were all conversing and laughing. Karen seems to be having fun as well. Looking at the Impala in the lovely evening light, it seemed better than ever, while still being rusty and battered up.
I couldn’t help but think about how much my father would have enjoyed this scene.Speaking to the group, I remarked, “You know, my dad always said a car wasn’t just a machine.” It was a narrative reimagined. Considering how many stories this old girl has brought out today, I believe he would be quite pleased. There were lifted glasses and murmurs of agreement. I noticed something as I turned to face my neighbors, who were now my pals. Despite all of the difficulty it had caused, this car had ultimately brought us all together. Though the restoration was still a long way off, I sensed that the voyage ahead would be much more pleasurable. Who knows?
Perhaps a whole neighborhood full of vintage vehicle lovers would be eager to go for a drive by the time the Impala was ready to hit the road. I lifted my cup. “To wonderful cars and good neighbors,” I uttered. Everyone applauded, and while I was surrounded by smiles and lively chatter, it occurred to me that sometimes the greatest restorations involve more than simply automobiles. They also care about the community. How would you have responded in that situation?
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