No, he didn't offer me a job, cash, or even talk me into to fleeing the Rust Belt Village of Lakewood, NY.
What he did do was star in a television program called Then Came Bronson that probably launched thousands of guys like me on wandering trips around the country.
I just happened to land in California.
The opening episode actually begins in San Francisco - not that far from where I am writing this today.
His character was emblematic of a generation of young men who were convinced that something out on the road was calling them. It certainly grabbed my attention from the first episode.
But at the time the program was getting underway, so was my young family.
Married with a three-month-old infant son, a motorcycle like the one driven by Michael Park's character was an unlikely vehicle for the three of us.
So the compromise vehicle was another icon of the era - a beat up VW microbus, complete with a peace symbol painted on the front in place of the metal VW symbol. That peace symbol was painted over just before we left NY for points west.
Watching the iconic film Easy Rider convinced me a slightly less 'in-your-face' vehicle might get me through some of places that sported signs in those days that said things like "NO HIPPIES ALLOWED" and "YOU WANT EAT HERE? GET A HAIRCUT."
The details of that sojourn will take an entire book to tell.
Michael Parks died earlier this week. He was 77 and had a fabulous film and television career acting in many great roles.
But for me, he will always be Bronson on his motorcycle.
In the video clip below (at about 1:12), a tired commuter driving a station wagon pulls alongside at a stoplight and asks Bronson where he's going.
"Oh, I don't know," Bronson says. "Wherever I end up, I guess."
The commuter responds, "Man, I wish I was you."
"Really?" Bronson says. "Well, hang in there."
Well, hang in there, Michael Parks, wherever your celestial motorcycle is taking you.
I'll hang in here.
Maybe someday we'll meet up going down that Long Lonesome Highway.