Priceless, both of them. "I wouldn't wait an hour to see God" aren't big shots funny! I'm so glad I'm a normal Joe, with holes in his socks.
---In FairfieldLife@yahoogroups.com, <turquoiseb@...> wrote : Ah, the Beverly Wilshire stories TurquoiseBee <turquoiseb@...> wrote: > > Personally, I think that Nabby is just still jealous > > that Heretic Turk got to spend one night as the "door > > guard" at Maharishi's door, and he never got closer > > to the man than the cheap seats in an auditorium. He > > shouldn't bother...it was a boring gig, except that it > > provided fodder for a couple of good Clint Eastwood and > > Charlie Lutes stories. :-) :-) Michael Jackson <mjackson74@...> wrote: > Oh please tell, tell 'em - I ain't never heard those stories! That's right...you're still a bit of a newb here at FFL. "Regulars" are groaning into their hot chocolate right now, going, "Oh no...not again." Unkind Net-elitists are going, "Couldn't you just Google this, or try to see if the Yahoo Groups search engine was working properly yet, and find one of the previous tellings of these tales?" Me, I'm going, "Hmmmmm. That sounds like fun. I mean, here I am in a comfortable cafe on a comfortable day, sitting here waiting for "writing inspiration," and Michael asks me to retell two of my favorite TM-era stories. Is this an omen, or what?" :-) THE BACKGROUND It was at the time of one of the Merv Griffin TV shows featuring Maharishi. At the time I was working at the Western Regional Office at 1015 Gayley, also home of the TM National center at the time, a workspace occupied by its then leader, Jerry Jarvis. Jerry had been my TM teacher, and we worked together a lot, and I guess he'd heard OK things about me 'round town, because he kept asking me to do a few "prime time" intro lectures and appearances for him, like the one for NBC News. Anyway, whether he'd heard good things about me or the opposite, I'd gotten picked to be "on staff" during Maharishi's visit. This involved meeting a few people at the airport and being "door guard" at Maharishi's door at the Beverly Wilshire Hotel while he was staying there, the night before the taping. If this sounds like a "good deal?" it wasn't. The airport thing was fun, but try to imagine standing in front of a hotel room door and having as your job description keeping out all the hordes who showed up wanting to see Maharishi. As my gig had been explained to me, I was supposed to stand there and ask everyone who came to the door what their name was, put those names on a list, and give it to the person inside the door, whose job description was to take the list directly to Maharishi. MMY then decided who was to be allowed to enter, and who wasn't. The other person would then come to the door and tell me who to let in and who to tell to have a seat on the corridor floor and wait. Suffice it to say that Maharishi didn't necessarily want to see all of the people waiting, and that at times the corridor was full of a couple of dozen squatting devotees. THE CLINT STORY So I'm standing there, doin' my thing, getting bad-vibed by all of the people squatting there in the hall, and up walks Clint Fucking Eastwood. I'd met him briefly at the airport, but here he was right in front of me, wanting to go into Maharishi's room, where his friend and the host of the TV show Merv Griffin already were. Well, I didn't have to "take his name" because he was one of the entries on a "short list" I'd been given about who to let in immediately. So I just said, "Hi Clint." But then Clint noticed the pile of shoes by the door. He looked at me, standing there in my stocking feet, and at the pile of shoes, and then back to me. He was not smiling. I don't think I can adequately convey what it's like to be "not smiled at" by Clint Fucking Eastwood, so I shall not even try. He said, "Are we supposed to take our shoes off?" I said, "Well, it's traditional, Clint." He gave me another Dirty Harry look, like, "Do you KNOW who you're asking to take off his boots?" This was, after all, the #1 Box Office Star in the world at that point in time. But then he smiled and shrugged and pulled off his cowboy boots. That's when I figured out what his hesitation had been about. The #1 Box Office Star In The World had holes in his socks. I clearly remember that one big toe was sticking out, and the two little piggies on each foot were definitely trying to make a break for it and head to the nearest market. He looked down at his not-quite-appropriately-clad-for-meeting-a-spiritual-teacher feet, grinned amiably, and walked in. I really LOVE this Clint Eastwood moment. Probably better than any of the moments in his movies. THE CHARLIE LUTES STORY Still standing in the hall. Merv and Clint are inside with Maharishi, people are still coming up to me asking to see Maharishi and I am still trying to be polite and write down their names and their stories on the pieces of paper I pass through the door. A couple of dozen people are still squatting on the floor, bad-vibing me Big Time because I haven't called their name yet. And up walks Charlie Lutes. I tell him the procedure, write his name on a piece of paper, and ask him to wait while I go inside and give this information to Maharishi. I do just that, stepping inside and giving the piece of paper to the paper guy, who immediately walks it up to Maharishi, where someone reads it to him. Maharishi turns to paper guy and obviously tells him something, because he comes back to me and says, "Maharishi says to tell Charlie to wait." I exit from the room and do just that. Suffice it to say that Charlie's glare is right up there with Clint's. But he backed away and stood in the hall with all the other devotees. And stood there. And stood there, and stood there, and stood there. For all of 15 minutes, as I remember. His face was getting redder with every minute, and finally he just stalked off, saying loudly and angrily, "I wouldn't wait an hour to see GOD!" It had been fifteen minutes. So that's the end of the story. Or so I thought. As it turns out, Charlie managed to get face time with Maharishi at the airport as he was leaving, and asked why he hadn't been admitted the night before. Maharishi looked him straight in the face (this part I have from Jerry, who was standing right there), and said, "No one ever told me you were there." Maharishi left, but Charlie couldn't let it lie. He started going around saying that Jerry's "SIMS guys" had prevented him from seeing Maharishi. I heard that he had even found out my name and had gone to people at TM National trying to get me fired. It didn't work. So those are the two stories. Thanks for asking, because it's given me something interesting to type for a few minutes. Time for another beer...
