"Hey, that's my doctor!"

If you've heard that exclamation in public, you may have been in line at the movies or accepting a community service award at a luncheon. The first time Daniel A. Gross, MD, heard it, he was jamming on his bass at a dance club on Santa Monica Blvd.

Since then, he's also added acting to his volunteer resume, performing in musicals for community theatre groups. And while some may get dizzy just thinking about the right brain-left brain disconnect that must plague a physician-musician-thespian, Dr. Gross says his roles as healer, hep cat and ham are complementary, making him, at the end of the day, a better doctor.

There was a time when he almost added hoofer to the list. "I started out as a kid taking tap dancing and drama lessons," the Tarzana dermatologist recalls. "Because my parents were poor, they couldn't afford to keep me in lessons, though. So in grammar school, I switched to being a cellist." In middle school, fate stepped in again. "I switched to bass fiddle because they needed one for the jazz band, and I was the closest they could get," he says. "I got pretty good as a jazz bass player and literally played my way through high school, college and medical school. That's how I supported myself."

Indeed, until another twist of fate changed his course again, Dr. Gross assumed he'd be a professional musician. But at his high school's career day, "the UCLA music advisor never showed up, so I went next door and signed up for pre-med. True story."

Then came his transformation from bass-playing physician to leading-man doctor. Seems his axe wielding caused him to get calluses so severe he couldn't evaluate his dermatology patients' skin. So the bass had to go. About the same time, he took his daughter to audition for a musical production at a local church. She got a part in the chorus--and he landed the lead.

Flash forward 15 years and Dr. Gross continues to enjoy the stage. He's part of a volunteer Hidden Hills troupe that puts on a Valentine's Day benefit. "It's like an Andy Hardy film," he quips. "Very 'Let's put on a show!'" What started as a group of 10 doing skits and singing songs has grown to a group of 30 doing a full-fledged musical-variety show. Because the performers all work for free, every penny of the ticket revenues--which totaled about $16,000 this year--went to charities, including a battered women's shelter, the Pituitary Society, a local grammar school and a pet shelter.

Dr. Gross' flair for the dramatic and melodic delivers benefits for him personally, too. "I've always enjoyed music," he says. "It's a nice outlet for relieving tension and stress. I get a lot of pleasure out of it." He emphasizes that it really does help him practice his medical arts more adeptly. "If you can perform in front of strangers and not come unglued, you can maintain decorum better and keep your wits about you in your office."

And there's an added bonus. "Music makes you more sensitive to people's needs," Dr. Gross says. "It's an emotional, artistic expression, and it sensitizes you. When you're playing in a band, you actually watch and listen to the people you're performing for to see if they're happy and satisfied. It's that way, too, in medicine. We have to be sensitive to the desires and needs of our patients."

In addition to sharing his talents, Dr. Gross, a partner at Valley Dermatologic Medical Group, also shares his medical knowledge. He lectures at area schools on subjects like preventing skin cancer and proper skin protection--and serendipity played a role in that as well. "The first time I lectured for a classroom, I was going out with a woman who was a teacher," he says. "I thought I'd get on her good side if I talked to her class." The "eager, receptive faces" on her grade-school students inspired him to expand his lecturing. Now, he talks to middle and high school students as well, giving an educational speech three or four times a year.

The volunteer work is all about feeling good. "You're giving back to society in a noneconomic fashion," Dr. Gross says. "You're not just writing a check. That's a nice feeling. It makes you feel good to be in a position to give back with no strings."

Dr. Gross is also a clinical professor emeritus of dermatology at David Geffen School of Medicine at UCLA. He's been president of the American Society for Dermatologic Surgery, the Los Angeles Metropolitan Dermatologic Society and the San Fernando Valley Dermatologic Society. Also, he helped organize and gave lectures at the now-defunct American Psoriasis Society. And he volunteers at cancer screenings at local hospitals and malls, and worked on a major women's health screening project in Long Beach this past year organized by California First Lady Maria Shriver.

Through it all, Dr. Gross says, he remains committed to his medical practice. Gigs on Santa Monica Blvd. come and go, and eventually even the most dashing leading man has to settle for supporting roles as a character actor. But a doctor is a doctor forever. "I've gotten so much out of this field," he says. "It's hard, physical work and it's very hard emotional work. I love it."