went down with Joan Rivers
|Im riding the elevator down in the
Indianapolis Hilton. Summer 1981. Im looking
*pretty* good in my tan polyester pants and crepe shoes.
What else would I be wearing at the National Conference
of the Future Business Leaders of America? (Yes,
mock me if you must, I'll wait...)
Watch out. I was president of the Scappoose (Oregon) High School chapter of the Future Business Leaders of America. A man with a mission. Im there as part of the fabulous Oregon delegation because I had taken first place in the grueling state Data Processing competition. I had the highest score on a test in which questions about (you may want to sit down before continuing) *punch cards* dominated.
Now I can tell you that it was indeed 1981, but for all you youngsters out there, punch cards were by no means something that you *ever* ran into outside of the federal government and old IBM shops. I mean, hey, we had our Apple IIs with *48k RAM* and actual *floppy disk* drives. Who do you think youre messing with, man? And they wanted me to answer questions about punch cards?
My guesses won the day and, what the hell, a trip to beautiful downtown Indianapolis.
So Im riding the elevator down when we stop on the 3rd floor. The doors open. In walks Joan Rivers, looking quite nice I might add, and a rather handsome tan fellow in a blue blazer (no, not George Hamilton, probably her bodyguard). She gets into the elevator and gives me that nervous smile of hers and realizes I recognize her and says, Hey, youre one of those business type kids that are crawling all over the hotel!. I nervously smile and nod.
I'm thinking that just about anything I could say is going to come out as a trite cliche. Joan, loved you on the Tonight Show last month. Joan, you look lovely tonight. Maybe, Hey, Joan, break a leg.
My deal with celebrities is this: I figure they already put up with a tremendous amount of bullshit from overeager, demanding fans. I just want to show a little restraint, a little class. That guy with here was pretty big. Plus I had no idea what to say to her. O.k., I was chicken. Are you happy now?
So we stared at the numbers and we got off. I mean, we walked off the elevator.
It doesnt make for such a great story, but it prevents this story from sliding over to Stupid Things I Have Done.
Epilogue: I finish 4th in the Nationals (still more punch card questions - jeez), get a little plaque and a goofy picture of it. I took a cab out to an Indie metroplex and caught a newly released film starring Harrison Ford / Rutger Hauer flick (Bladerunner).
|brush & brawl: Ithak Perlman takes off his G-string|