Frankly Speaking-Hillcrest Country Club
It was a typical Southern California Thursday. The sun was scheduled to shine (surprise) and I had rented two automatic photo booths to a father who wanted the units for his daughter’s Bat Mitzvah. You know, a young Jewish girl turns thirteen, reaches adulthood and …. Well, that’s about the extent of my knowledge of jewish tradition, pomp and rites of passage. Anyway, Chris Tebow and I had put 2 photo studios on our 10 foot stake bed truck and we were going to deliver and operate the units during the evening’s festivities. So, off we went. Chris in the driver’s seat and I rode shotgun as we navigated the early afternoon traffic in Los Angeles. Our destination was a country club on the west side of the city.
The Hillcrest Country Club was born out of ethnic necessity. In the first half of the 20th century Jewish patrons were not allowed to frequent the area’s Country Clubs and golf courses. Let’s face it there was a significant influx of Jewish talent into the Los Angeles/Hollywood areas at that time. (Does any part of Metro Goldwyn Mayer sound Jewish?) Well the Jewish elite of the film industry did the only logical thing. They built their own country club. Does it surprise you to know that they built it directly across the street from the 20th Century Fox studios?
Early that afternoon we arrived at the clubhouse and drove up the circular drive way. We needed to locate the entry we would use to take 2 1000 pound photo machines into the facility. Now I hadn’t risen to the position of Regional Manager because I was totally stupid. I somehow deducted that the management of the facility would not welcome our taking those two units in the front door of a posh, plush trendy clubhouse. Therefore I instructed Chris to park the truck on the outer reaches of the circular drive way and I would go find out how to proceed. I walked across the center part of the circle to reach the front door of the clubhouse.
I was trying to get the valet captain to tell me where we needed to go, but I was having some difficulty. I don’t know whether it was my Spanish or the valet captain’s English that was to blame but we were having problems communicating. Making the matter worse was the fact that another person had launched a conversation with another of the valet people and I could not help but overhear the conversation. It wasn’t that the conversation was that interesting, quite the contrary. It was a simple yet direct request that his car be brought to the valet station. But that voice! I was occupied by trying to get the needed information from the valet captain and at the same time intrigued by that voice. Was it really……….? The valet captain finished his explanation to me; I thanked him and turned to walk back to the truck. As I turned I recognized the man that had made the request for his car. I was right and yes the voice had been that recognizable.
As I got back in the truck Chris immediately asked what he was to do. My response was simply to tell him to set still a minute. “Come on Frank, we need to unload this truck!” “Wait a minute!” I said. A black Buick was pulling up in front of the valet station. “Chris watch that Buick! In just a minute God is going to get in that car!” “Come on Frank, we need to g….” George Burns stood to enter the back seat of his car. Chris was stunned. He was left completely speechless. He sat there mouth agape in total shock.
The Hillcrest Country Club was born out of ethnic necessity. In the first half of the 20th century Jewish patrons were not allowed to frequent the area’s Country Clubs and golf courses. Let’s face it there was a significant influx of Jewish talent into the Los Angeles/Hollywood areas at that time. (Does any part of Metro Goldwyn Mayer sound Jewish?) Well the Jewish elite of the film industry did the only logical thing. They built their own country club. Does it surprise you to know that they built it directly across the street from the 20th Century Fox studios?
Early that afternoon we arrived at the clubhouse and drove up the circular drive way. We needed to locate the entry we would use to take 2 1000 pound photo machines into the facility. Now I hadn’t risen to the position of Regional Manager because I was totally stupid. I somehow deducted that the management of the facility would not welcome our taking those two units in the front door of a posh, plush trendy clubhouse. Therefore I instructed Chris to park the truck on the outer reaches of the circular drive way and I would go find out how to proceed. I walked across the center part of the circle to reach the front door of the clubhouse.
I was trying to get the valet captain to tell me where we needed to go, but I was having some difficulty. I don’t know whether it was my Spanish or the valet captain’s English that was to blame but we were having problems communicating. Making the matter worse was the fact that another person had launched a conversation with another of the valet people and I could not help but overhear the conversation. It wasn’t that the conversation was that interesting, quite the contrary. It was a simple yet direct request that his car be brought to the valet station. But that voice! I was occupied by trying to get the needed information from the valet captain and at the same time intrigued by that voice. Was it really……….? The valet captain finished his explanation to me; I thanked him and turned to walk back to the truck. As I turned I recognized the man that had made the request for his car. I was right and yes the voice had been that recognizable.
As I got back in the truck Chris immediately asked what he was to do. My response was simply to tell him to set still a minute. “Come on Frank, we need to unload this truck!” “Wait a minute!” I said. A black Buick was pulling up in front of the valet station. “Chris watch that Buick! In just a minute God is going to get in that car!” “Come on Frank, we need to g….” George Burns stood to enter the back seat of his car. Chris was stunned. He was left completely speechless. He sat there mouth agape in total shock.
posted by Frank at 3:27 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home