While sorting through a box of newspaper clippings the other day, I found a painful reminder of my experience in 1974.

Back then, I was just another college kid with Hollywood dreams. Wanted to write and direct movies, be the next Coppola or Spielberg.

I had no talent but a pantload of enthusiasm.

So, when an ad popped up in the local papers, it was like a sign from the movie gods. Walt Disney Productions, no less, was looking for fresh meat — actors, crew, you name it — for a film in Denver.

My buddy and I were over the moon. Thought we’d hit the jackpot. All we had to do was show up at a Holiday Inn next to Mile High Stadium, get interviewed, and fork over 15 bucks for a union application. Had to be a check, though. No cash.

We did the song and dance, answered questions, and wrote the checks. As we were leaving, strutting like Travolta in “Saturday Night Fever,” in comes Denver District Attorney Dale Tooley flanked by a couple of cops.

It was easy to connect the dots. We bolted and stopped payment on those checks faster than you can say, “Cut!”

Months later, the Rocky Mountain News ran the story. Turned out 90 suckers got taken for a ride to the tune of $1,417.50. Adjusted for inflation, that’s close to nine grand today.

But the kicker? We have yet to figure out why they wanted checks instead of cash.

It was a lesson, all right. Showed me the world is full of hustlers and dreamers and that if you’re gonna shoot for the stars, you better have more than a slingshot.

So, here I am, still no closer to Hollywood years later. But I’ve got stories that could fill a screenplay or two.

And every time I think about that scam, I can’t help but chuckle. It was a cheap lesson in a world where nothing’s free.

Those lessons are permanent.