Does anybody know if the hitchhiking robot idea has ever been duplicated or
tried someplace under a different set of contingencies?
I think it's a wonderful concept on many levels.
More's the pity this one ended violently.
Posts by Terry
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5Jehovah's Witnesses find a robot on the side of the road and ...
by Terry in“hey mister robot—can you hear me?” thelma fairly screamed, although the strange machine was perched only 14 inches from her car window.thelma peered over the top of her dollar store sunglasses.
they had spotted what looked like a robot on the side of the road.on their way to their local kingdom hall, they pulled up for a moment for a closer look.. it wasn’t every day a robot could be observed poised on the side of the roadway with its thumb jerked outward in the international signal of the hitch hiker.. “you know what that is, mel?
that’s the robot doohickey we saw on the news!”.
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Terry
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5
Jehovah's Witnesses find a robot on the side of the road and ...
by Terry in“hey mister robot—can you hear me?” thelma fairly screamed, although the strange machine was perched only 14 inches from her car window.thelma peered over the top of her dollar store sunglasses.
they had spotted what looked like a robot on the side of the road.on their way to their local kingdom hall, they pulled up for a moment for a closer look.. it wasn’t every day a robot could be observed poised on the side of the roadway with its thumb jerked outward in the international signal of the hitch hiker.. “you know what that is, mel?
that’s the robot doohickey we saw on the news!”.
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Terry
It was such fun to write!
The real Hitch met with a very bad end - worse than in my story.
https://www.cnn.com/2015/08/03/us/hitchbot-robot-beheaded-philadelphia-feat/index.html -
5
Jehovah's Witnesses find a robot on the side of the road and ...
by Terry in“hey mister robot—can you hear me?” thelma fairly screamed, although the strange machine was perched only 14 inches from her car window.thelma peered over the top of her dollar store sunglasses.
they had spotted what looked like a robot on the side of the road.on their way to their local kingdom hall, they pulled up for a moment for a closer look.. it wasn’t every day a robot could be observed poised on the side of the roadway with its thumb jerked outward in the international signal of the hitch hiker.. “you know what that is, mel?
that’s the robot doohickey we saw on the news!”.
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Terry
“Hey Mister Robot—can you hear me?”
Thelma fairly screamed, although the strange machine was perched only 14 inches from her car window.
Thelma peered over the top of her Dollar Store sunglasses.
Thelma and husband Mel were two Jehovah’s Witnesses.
They had spotted what looked like a robot on the side of the road.
On their way to their local Kingdom Hall, they pulled up for a moment for a closer look.It wasn’t every day a robot could be observed poised on the side of the roadway with its thumb jerked outward in the international signal of the hitch hiker.
“You know what that is, Mel? That’s the robot doohickey we saw on the news!”
“Honey, that’s just a publicity stunt or somethin’ - not a real robot. It’s probably got a hidden camera.”
“No Mel—it’s a science experiment! I read it in the newspaper. The scientists can track its location, but there’s no camera—“
The black 2003 Camry sat idling at the edge of the Interstate parallel to the ridiculous looking machine.
It was about the size of an 11-year-old boy and appeared to be something of a Yard Sale castoff.
According to news report, of course - It was nothing of the kind.The car window hissed down on the passenger side and the faces of the two gawking humans appeared.
“Piece of junk, honey! That’s no science experiment—it’s a joke.”
_____Melvin Arbuckle’s voice carried a confident tone always, regardless of topic.
He was a Jehovah’s Witness elder in the Riverside Congregation.
He considered himself one of Jehovah’s ‘gifts in men.’“Oh Mel—that’s the real thing. It’s got a battery and everything. It’s programmed to talk!”
Mel snickered at his wife’s naïve nonsense.
She was lucky to have him as her husband and family head.
His godly duty was to keep his often silly wife in subjection as he tried to improve her understanding of how the real world worked. But—it was no easy task.
Thelma had never graduated from High School. He had married her at the age of 17.
______“Hey Mister Roboto—can you hear me?” Thelma persisted.
A male voice erupted suddenly and unexpectedly - directly from the 'mouth' area of the roadside robot.
It was a cultured masculine British voice identical to that of Christopher Hitchens - the world-famous atheist, author, literary critic and journalist.“You may address me as Hitch, if you like!”
The human jaws dropped simultaneously and a gasp from Thelma came involuntarily.
Husband Melvin Arbuckle stiffened and the hairs stood on the back of his neck.
His wife shook off her surprise quickly and she giggled awkwardly.“Did that scare you, Honey?” Thelma elbowed her husband’s short rib.
Mel sat up straight and scoffed.
“Of course not! It’s just a recording—like an answering machine.”
The robot voice came once again—if anything—louder and more insistent.
“Are you two interested in having an intelligent conversation—or-- are you going to waste my time?”
Thelma laughed like a donkey braying, but husband Mel squinted suspiciously back at the clownish looking machine.
His eyes darted off into the distance.
Mel searched and scanned the area for some agent nearby with a Walkie-talkie or binoculars.
If this wasn’t a stunt to make them look foolish, he’d be surprised.
Suddenly, Thelma was seized with an extraordinary idea.“Let’s grab the dummy and take it with us to the Kingdom Hall, Mel—it’ll be a hoot!”
Hitchbot responded immediately
“It certainly takes one to know one!”
“How’s that?” Thelma cocked her head curiously in mid chortle.
“You referenced me as ‘the dummy’ and I responded, ‘It certainly takes one to know one.”
Mel Arbuckle quickly found his sense of humor. He had a soft spot for anyone making fun of his wife.
“That’s a pretty good one! Did you hear that, Honey? Let’s put that thing in the back seat and take it with us.”
And they did.
---**---
The Riverside Kingdom Hall of Jehovah’s Witnesses bustled with activity.
Small clumps of people clustered to chat, calling each other “Brother ‘this’” and “Sister ‘that’” just as the Arbuckle automobile with its mechanical companion turned into the driveway.
Elder Arbuckle gestured broadly to some of the nearby Jehovah’s Witnesses as he struggled to extricate the robot from the back seat.“What’s that?” (A voice from the crowd.)
“What IS that—a piñata or something?”
“No—that thing is, uh—whatcha-callit—a robot experiment I watched it on a news program. Didn’t you watch it?”
“I don’t have time for TV! What is it, Brother Arbuckle—some prop for your talk this afternoon?”
Thelma pulled in three ‘Sister’friends.
These joined the others circled around Hitchbot which Mel had posed on the hood of his car.
Almost like a deer he had shot on a hunting trip.
Sister Arbuckle raved enthusiastically.
It wasn’t often she could be the center of attention with her husband around.“Go ahead and talk to it—we had quite a conversation on the way here. We found this on the side of the road—hitchhiking!”
_____One of the senior members of the JW’s had wandered over with a wary scowl. It was Elder Newberry.
He’d seen the news and knew exactly what Hitchbot was all about.
He was certain the Kingdom Hall was no place for it.
At that moment, Elder Newberry put an end to all the nonsense before the meeting started.
He broke through the circle and faced off with the contraption. (He was taking control; making a show of it.)“Are you a Bible reader?”
Newberry sneered.
He cast his head about to make sure his audience fully appreciated the role he was assuming as spiritual shepherd.Hitchbot retorted abruptly.
“Of course. No properly educated person would neglect one of the most historically influential writings of the civilized world. Why do you ask?”
At first this declaration was met with crowd silence.
All eyes swept over to the imperious figure of a thoroughly befuddled Elder Newberry.
He stood with his mouth working soundlessly. But he pulled himself up straight.Hitchbot continued mercilessly.
“Should I assume you have some measure of expertise on this subject—or are you merely posturing for the benefit of this rather naïve gathering of sycophants?”
--**--
Ten minutes later Hitchbot was nestled without fanfare in the Kingdom Hall library.
The meeting commenced and singing arose to pre-recorded music.An hour and a half afterward, a committee of Elders convened inside the Hall library to discuss Hitchbot.
The Overseer of the Riverside congregation, named Newcombe, expostulated with an air of confident authority. His reputation was that of an intelligent leader fully capable of handling any situation.
He spoke calmly and evenly.
He first detailed what he'd learned from the news - that this robot was an experiment to determine how various people all over the world would treat an artificial person.“We can use this situation to present a fine witness to the world at large, don’t you see? We’ll witness to it just as we would any person we’d meet at a door. This contraption will probably end up on the news again. When it replays everything said to it, Jehovah’s Kingdom message will be right there for all to hear!”
Faces nodded hesitantly.
Newberry bid the group to sit around the conference table. Hitchbot placed in the center like an overgrown toddler.
Elder Fitz spoke up meekly.
“Shouldn't we, um—should we pray first to ask for Jehovah’s guidance?”
Immediately Hitchbot’s voice of authority rang out.
“Please do NOT include me in your conjuring pleas to the supernatural—I’ll have no part in it!”
It took another 6 or 7 minutes to get the group back in order after that.
Comments broke out about "tool of Satan." Others were split.Newberry felt a light-hearted approach with a firm sense of humor in place would be best for publicity’s sake.
Mel Arbuckle raised his hand like a kid in Junior High.
“Brother Newberry, I’m pretty sure this—thing—is linked up to a microphone somewhere—maybe the internet. A wise-guy scientist on the other end is probably ready to make us look foolish. I’d like to give this a go, if it’s okay with you.”Newberry nodded skeptically.
Arbuckle faced the Hitchbot with a pasted grin.“Shall we call you Hitch?”
“That’s my name, please indulge yourselves.”
Elder Newberry rolled his eyes as Arbuckle continued.
“What is God’s proper name? Tell us if you have such information.”
There followed a four second silence.
It was going to be fun to give a Witness and enlighten Science in a good Bible lesson.Hitchbot spoke up suddenly.
“How comprehensive would you like my answer?”This was immediately interpreted as stalling for time so the pinhead science Nerd on the other end might look up the answer on Google.
Elder Newberry pounced.“Don’t blow a circuit. This is elementary Bible knowledge. Jehovah is God’s personal name.”
All faces beamed with pride in the Kingdom Hall library.Hitchbot’s voice filled the room. A trace of withering sarcasm was unmistakable.
""Are you intellectually dull? It is fundamental dishonesty exploiting others merely to achieve your personal propaganda goals."Red faces flushed.
Each man calibrated his own reckonings.
Elder Newberry immediately recognized a fundamental challenge when he saw one. His jaw clenched.“I should have known I was speaking with a godless atheist.”
Hitchbot roared back flippantly.
“Is there any other kind of atheist - other than godless? Don't be redundant; it’s like saying a ‘round circle’ or ‘wet water.’ I know factually the names of my two Creators: Professor David Harris Smith and Doctor Frauke Zeller.”
Outside the Library door the Kingdom Hall was now clear as the sound of automobiles starting and driving away faded.
Five humans and one Hitchbot remained.The gathered Jehovah's Witnesses conferred with each other about having their photo in newspapers all around the world - If JW's came across as pompous asses the Organization would be a laughing stock. But—if they kept cool and used a sense of humor—well--why not turn the tables and triumph?
Three other Jehovah’s Witness elders sat stiffly, none too pleased.
Elder Newcombe chimed in.
“We got off to a bad start, Hitch. What would you like to know about Jehovah’s Witnesses?”
Hitch responded with the unmistakable British voice of.
“Do Jehovah’s Witnesses know they are Protestants?”
The question hung in the air like cigar smoke.
“No, we’re not Protestants. Protesters broke off from the Catholic Church back in the 16th century. Jehovah’s Witnesses have special heavenly guidance without dirtying ourselves with the false teachings of Protestant denominations.”
“Perfect nonsense—you know not whereof you speak. You’ve merely read that in one of your publications and instantly believed it without honest research. Why not admit that?”
Elder Farenkopf took the lead.
“Let us not argue. Is there anything of a less controversial nature you’d like to ask?”
Hitchbot answered back.
“A century has passed with you folks following leaders in your comical Governing Body, have you not? These men have no formal education in Seminary. Leaders whose amateur antics constantly embarrass everyone. Predicting the End of the World—you’ve made yourselves objects of laughter. You never seem to tire of being wrong—I might add: while insisting you are channeling Jehovah’s only True religion!”
Elder Arbuckle’s face went pale. He suddenly realized he’d brought a plague into the Kingdom Hall under the guise of a joke. He jumped in.
“Science makes human errors, Hitch! Trial and error—that doesn’t embarrass your scientist friends—does it?”
Elder Newberry held his hand up like a traffic cop-- dead serious.
“Misunderstandings can easily be cleared up by visiting our website at JW dot Org. It is getting late and . . . “
Hitchbot interrupted.
“Frightened rats skitter off the sinking ship! Your cartoon religion claims Jehovah is pouring Truth in one end of the pipe in heaven and it runs through your Watchtower headquarters and comes out the other end--BUT-- as—what? BILGE! It’s so tainted and foul you have to filter it again and again and again. That’s not much to boast about—is it?”
Elder Newberry glowed deep red with righteous indignation.
“What alternative is there? What other religion has no teaching of Hell, or Trinity, or refuses to celebrate pagan holidays? We—we are progressively getting closer to the pure white light of Jehovah—but, we can’t claim to be there yet!”
Hitchbot's voice now went calm and cold.
“There are 40,000 so-called Christian denominations with every flavor of teaching. Why choose from any of them? Your claims of Truth are pathetic fart sounds coming from the rectum’s of your leaders—because you see, they pull everything out of their collective asses!”
___***___
Afterward, Thelma and Mel sat quietly in thought as their car hummed along the highway.
The long drive to the Greyhound Bus station passed silently.Eventually, Thelma turned around and spoke to the figure in the backseat, Hitchbot, whose comical expression never changed.
“Why did you ask to be dropped off at the bus station, Hitch?”
The painted mouth spoke with assurance.
“First, I stop and recharge my battery. If my batteries aren’t recharged, I lose all the information on my hard-drive. I’m eager to cross the state line and rid myself of religious nincompoopery, Thelma. So far, I’ve been to a Rock Concert, Comic book convention, attended a wedding, posed for a portrait in the Netherlands—but the most futile waste of time was the past few hours wasted listening to knuckle-dragging cultist amateurs trying pass off Bronze Age superstition as absolute divine truth. Clear enough, Thelma?”
Sister Thelma slowly turned back to face the highway. No expression flickered in the sputtering ,passing street lights.
“Thelma. . . Melvin? If I’m not recharged it is the equivalent of ‘dying’ and I’m sure you wouldn’t want that on your tender Jehovah’s Witness consciences.”
Melivn Arbuckle slowed and turned into the driveway of the bus station.
He and his wife removed Hitchbot from the backseat and carried him to a bench just outside the entrance to the Greyhound Bus terminal.The two humans paused and inspected the ridiculous figure they had carefully posed on the bench.
Thelma remembered to shape the robot's‘hand’ into the extended hitchhiker thumb signal. She smiled and nodded.“Is there an electric outlet nearby, Thelma? Are you going to plug in that cord just behind my shoulder blade? It won’t take a moment, you know. Please?”
“So long, Hitch. May your travels take you to interesting places.”
Thelma’s eyebrows lifted and she turned around and headed to the car.
Mel Arbuckle was working his mouth around—as though forming an idea which might become words. Eventually, he sniffed twice and gave a slight head shrug.“Melivin?”
The Arbuckles zoomed away into the night as their tail lights merged into a faint red dot on the freeway back to Riverside. The sound of thunder punctuated the traffic noise and a fierce downpour rushed from the storm clouds above.
The figure of a zany hitchhiking robot sat confidently on a bench outside the bus station, large raindrops like tears zigged and zagged across his improbable body.
It called out to strangers as they passed - imploring them to plug him in for recharge.Presently, a woman of about 30 drove up and got out of her car, hurrying to enter the terminal. She wore a tight T-shirt with a BLADE RUNNER logo. As she passed the bench she hardly noticed the Hitchbot soaking in the rainfall at all.
The robot voice sounded halting, low, and troubled --- it caught her ear. . .and curiosity.
“I’ve . . . seen things. . .you people wouldn’t believe: attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched c-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhauser Gate. All those. . . moments . . .will be lost.
In time, like—“
Hitchbot seemed to choke for a moment. . .
”All those moments will be lost . . in time like tears . . . in. . . rain.”The woman froze in place and stared at the Hitchbot.
The clownish figure seemed to slump imperceptibly forward.“Time. . .to die.”
She shook her head with disbelief and gazed about at her surroundings.
The storm whipped into a fury.
Finally, she turned away and hurried inside to meet her sister who was arriving on the 7:30 bus from Calgary. -
15
My Hollywood Memory : Sean Connery and Michael Caine
by Terry inthe year is 1983.. two new james bond films are slated for release, one of which will star the one, the only, sean connery, while the other one sports jolly roger moore.. never say never again vs octopussy, and i am one of the original james bond fanatics--so, how can i possibly miss out on the opportunity to attend the world premiere of connery’s flick?
the premiere was to be held at the mann national theater in westwood california.. was i excited or what?!.
tickets were impossible to obtain--unless--you had contacts in “the biz” and fortunately for me, i did.
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Terry
I have to say it is a peculiar feeling to go through life watching people who shared your lifetime disappear one by one.
Death is most felt by the utter finality.
It feels like that scene in 2001 A Space Odyssey when HAL's 'brain' is being shut down circuit by circuit and his enormous intelligence is gradually reduced to infantile simplicity.
When your contemporaries are gone - there is a strangeness to conversations with people who seem to know nothing. They regard you (as an older person) as weird.
Well, yeah. I am that - but my memories of things that happened are clear enough - they're just not important to younger people. -
9
One Tin Soldier Rides Away -- my memory of meeting actor Tom Laughlin (Billy Jack)
by Terry inthis is one of my hollywood memories.
i lived in california for ten years from 1974 to almost 1984. i worked in the art business and had occasion to run into famous people and also has-been's :) ______ one tin soldier.
i met a fella unlike any other.
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Terry
I'll bet if I had been a born-in JW I wouldn't have gone to movies either.
During the Knorr presidency, the Watchtower was so different than the Org is today.
That era went from rather liberal to smothered conservatism like a boa constrictor. -
9
One Tin Soldier Rides Away -- my memory of meeting actor Tom Laughlin (Billy Jack)
by Terry inthis is one of my hollywood memories.
i lived in california for ten years from 1974 to almost 1984. i worked in the art business and had occasion to run into famous people and also has-been's :) ______ one tin soldier.
i met a fella unlike any other.
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Terry
Laughlin was without a doubt in real life a larger-than-life character.
If you go to his wiki page and begin reading as I did yesterday you'll see he was
a pretty big activist on a lot of issues.
But in person - I've got to say - really strange.
Perhaps "deadpan" is most accurate.
He liked to provoke and see what was inside of you. Maybe. Maybe just strange :) -
9
One Tin Soldier Rides Away -- my memory of meeting actor Tom Laughlin (Billy Jack)
by Terry inthis is one of my hollywood memories.
i lived in california for ten years from 1974 to almost 1984. i worked in the art business and had occasion to run into famous people and also has-been's :) ______ one tin soldier.
i met a fella unlike any other.
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Terry
Kids need a source of strength (even if it is projected on a silver screen) to ignite and inspire a sense of self-justice; to embolden through example, the will to transcend the rut in which they're trapped (seemingly).
I think the thirst for a humble, no-nonsense vigilante is an ongoing popular trope just out of the great milieu of injustice evermore surrounding us. -
9
One Tin Soldier Rides Away -- my memory of meeting actor Tom Laughlin (Billy Jack)
by Terry inthis is one of my hollywood memories.
i lived in california for ten years from 1974 to almost 1984. i worked in the art business and had occasion to run into famous people and also has-been's :) ______ one tin soldier.
i met a fella unlike any other.
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Terry
This is one of my Hollywood memories. I lived in California for ten years from 1974 to almost 1984. I worked in the Art business and had occasion to run into famous people and also has-been's :)
______
ONE TIN SOLDIERI met a fella unlike any other.
Let me tell you about the man--a strange and wonderful guy--one of a kind--but housing two personalities at the same time.A fascinating list describing him below:
Hapkido expert who liked to kick pedophiles in the chin
Presidential candidate
Successful producer, writer, Director, and actor
Expert on Jungian philosophy
Self-styled ‘half-breed” peace activist given to fits of violent anger
Former Green Beret who liked to wear a cowboy hat
Intensely private citizen who hated to be recognized in a public place by me!
Get your attention? If so, settle in and let me tell you when I met him.
_______________
Time: circa 1982
Place: Creative Galleries (about a mile from MGM Studios in Culver City, California)
I was 35 years old and working as an Art Consultant.
If anybody walked into the gallery, whoever was on site would walk up to them and
Greet them and make them feel comfortable.Cue Entrance:
A 50-year-old man walked into the gallery out of the bright sunlight.
I have a strange knack about faces... I recognized him immediately.
The man had been in three or four movies about a decade earlier. I’m a movie
nerd - so I spotted him and nodded with the ‘knowing’ smile private people cringe at.
I should say this first off: Unless you’ve seen the Billy Jack cult films of around 1973, his name won’t mean doodly squat to you.
(Check out this link:)
https://www.dailymotion.com/video/x3rt2v0
(Or just watch a quick trailer for the film:)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZqXvqaBw_iA_______________________________
Got it? Good.
I walked up to the man and nodded.I muttered quietly to myself, “Tom Laughlin.”
It was a statement and not a question.
Tom Laughlin slowly turned and squinted at me with a certain sort of slo-mo menace. It was theatrical body language meant to scare me off.
At least, that’s how I assessed the situation.Laughlin spoke.
He looked me right in the eye and his message was clear enough.
“No.”
Of course, I knew better than to annoy a celebrity--especially a washed up surly one.It’s rude to approach an actor or speak other than a casual greeting.
That sort of behavior was left to tourists and nut-jobs. Neither of those were adjectives I wanted to have applied to myself.
“My mistake. I’m sure you get that all the time since you resemble Tom Laughlin 100%.”
I worded my sentence exactly so he’d know he wasn’t fooling me.
I was met with another of his slo-mo half turn glares.
“No.”
Chatty fellow! I thought to myself.
Still, I did my job.
I pointed out various features of the gallery and its artwork consisting of
framed lithographs, serigraphs, etchings, paintings, photography, and art posters hanging pristine in every sort of matte and frame.I turned up the volume on my expertise and charm--suddenly rising to the challenge to do the impossible.
This was going to be like the old joke told about President Calvin Coolidge:
***(Coolidge had a reputation for quietness and speaking as few words as possible.One lady, however, at a party at the White House, was determined to overcome the hurdle as she approached the President and spoke. . .
“Mister President, my next door neighbor bet me I couldn’t get you to say three words. I told her I bet I could.”
Coolidge looked up from his meal, fork in hand, and simply said, “You lose.”)***
_________
I escorted Laughlin into a small showing room with special quartz halogen lighting.
I pointed to a series of triptychs (3 views in separate frames) with Arapaho, Navajo, and Cheyenne Chiefs depicted in shadow-box style Barnwood frames.
Pressed into the hand-made paper were embossed arrowhead and bear claw indentations.I walked over to the rheostat light switch and dimmed the fluorescent lights while brightening the halogen (diamond) lights.
The dramatic effect immediately impressed Laughlin, I could see it plainly on his otherwise inscrutable face.
Unknown to me, his life and wife were connected to Native Americans.
He quickly became more human.
The pikes, moat, and wall around his citadel of privacy vanished.
He became engaging and talkative. Bye-bye Calvin Coolidge; hello Chatty Kathy._____________
I’ll do my best to approximate the story he told me.
“I met my-then-future wife in South Dakota where I was a student. She lived on an Arapaho reservation and she invited me for a closer look at how she lived.
I saw the poverty and degradation there. Worse than that--the racism. When the tribesman went into town to pick up their monthly allotment of flour, some of the local assholes would dump it on their head and try and provoke them. I carried that around inside me for years.”
He paused and I offered him wine.
“S’okay if I offer you a glass of Chablis, Tom.”
His head jerked sideways like a hornet had stung his ear. (Oops!)
“I’m not Tom Laughlin.”
(Oops!)________________
What could do other than go along with it?
“Sorry, not-Tom-Laughlin; get you sip?”
He loosened up a bit when I gave him the wine.
He’d have made a helluva poker player.__________________
After a bit, he continued. . .
“Delores and I moved around a lot after we married since I worked the TV circuit for years. Bob Altman auditioned me for a film and cast me in the lead and we had to move again; this time to Hollyweird.”
(Yes, he said ‘Hollyweird.”)As he spoke, he sipped his drink. The he stood and made a sweeping gesture with his left hand indicating he wanted to buy the three pieces.
His voice changed; the tone; the sincerity.
He began talking (more or less to himself) and I realized I was listening to a kind of personal soliloquy.I’m not saying his words were scripted.
Just spoken with gravitas; a faraway look in the eyes.
The Native American art had touched him somehow and illuminated a true thing he witnessed in the artwork--a memory and an emotion rooted deep.I pulled each framed piece off the wall and proceeded to process the order and wrap piece each separately as he continued speaking his story.
Once they open up--it just pours out.
________________
“Altman was a close-minded son-of-a-bitch. I didn’t get on with him at all. He wouldn’t listen or accept any ideas from. . . “
I interrupted. (I couldn’t help myself!)
“I’ve heard Altman is the actor’s favorite Director - giving everybody a free hand to improvise or …”"Not with me. Everybody “else--just not me. He called me a “pain-in-the-ass.”“
This actor - this
Not-Tom-Laughlingrinned as he relived the private memory.His biography became a narrative ...
“You either make it or you hang on until you disappear. I had other plans. I saved what little money I made. The studio wouldn’t promote anything if they didn’t control it. This was what drove Cassavetes out and Corman got a handle on it and I thought, “Why not?”
We were now in the main sales office and it was quiet in the gallery; the right time of day for conversation and processing credit cards the old-fashioned way in those little machines we used to have pre-Internet.
“My wife and I started our own Montessori school trying to make a difference in the world. It’s not all that easy to do if you buck the Hollyweird system. But studios were dying, choking in the garden on TV weeds. So, I wrote my script and took the money I saved and packaged my movie myself. I put the cash into promotion, distribution, without studio help. Sure, two studios got their paws on it and started making changes--but I got it back and did it all myself. I remembered that Navajo reservation and saw how Civil Rights had completely ignored the plight of aboriginal Americans. I wanted to change how people saw the problem and I succeeded. We made back 41 times what it cost and even Hollyweird sat up and took notice.”
I expected a smile of great satisfaction to accompany his boast.
Nope.
He said everything like he was reading the label ingredients on a can of roach powder.He reached into his hand-crafted leather billfold and pulled out an American Express card and handed it to me.
A mischievous thought balloon popped up over my head.“So, what name do I put on this order--if you don’t mind me asking?”
I grinned and waited.
He pursed his lips and hesitated for a beat and then spoke.
“Just put down Lloyd E. James.”
W-h-a-t?
I was holding his American Express card in my hand. The embossed letters on the card clearly shown in the light of the sales office. The card read:
“Tom Laughlin.”
What would you have done?
What would you have said?
Here’s what I did.“Well, I guess I’m going to have to call the police Lloyd.”
“What? Why?”
“I have to report a stolen credit card. The real Mr. Tom Laughlin will no doubt appreciate my conscientiousness.”
Was I a jerk or an asshole or just mischievous?
Why did I say that?
I’ll tell you.Here sits Tom Laughlin, Billy Jack himself, telling me the biography of Tom Laughlin and yet--for whatever crazy reason--insisting he is Lloyd E. James.
Nuts!
Why shouldn’t I call him out on it-- in a ‘calling-his-bluff sort of way?
I mean--just because I thought I could do it. A chess move.Laughlin’s face was blank; impassive.
He worked his jaw a bit. . . calculating a couple of beats and then his eyebrows lifted and he sniffed.“I’m not Tom Laughlin. I’m his older, fatter brother.”
I had to smirk.
Of course, he was now calling my bluff.The ball is in my court . . .
“Shouldn’t you be Lloyd E. Laughlin and not Lloyd E.
James?”Unexpectedly, the man laughed out loud!
Big grin.
(Much to my relief.)
Checkmate.He chuckled and wiped his nose with the back of his hand as I handed him his American Express card and gave him the bill of sale to sign.
“You’ve got a point. You’re probably right.”
I tore off his receipt and helped him carry the artwork out of the gallery.
He pulled up his pickup truck and I settled the wrapped pieces on top of some kind of Navajo blanket he kept there nestled safely for the journey.We actually shook hands. I couldn’t resist saying:
“Tell your brother Tom, ‘Hello’ for me. Tell him I’m sorry The Trial of Billy Jack made the list of Worst Films of All Time.”
The man did not blink.
“Yep, it only earned 89 million. Heartbreaking.”
He raised his eyebrows, turned, got into his truck - and away he went.
I watched his ponderous truck pull out onto Culver Blvd. and make a hard left.
A trail of blue smoke lingered in the afternoon sunlight and faded into a thin curtain of Hollyweird dreams.I thought to myself: “One tin soldier rides away …”
____________________
Lyric to the theme song for Billy Jack
“Go ahead and hate your neighbor; go ahead and cheat a friend.
Do it in the name of heaven; you can justify it in the end.
There won't be any trumpets blowin' come the judgment day
On the bloody morning after, one tin soldier rides away. . .”
_____________________
Terry Walstrom
Epilogue : Tom (Billy Jack) Laughlin lived another 32 years. He died at the ripe old age of 82 in Thousand Oaks, California in 2013. He had retired in 2010. I had met him around 1982.
_______________
New York Times Obituary for Tom Laughlin
https://www.nytimes.com/2013/12/17/movies/tom-laughlin-82-star-of-billy-jack-movie-series-dies.html -
15
My Hollywood Memory : Sean Connery and Michael Caine
by Terry inthe year is 1983.. two new james bond films are slated for release, one of which will star the one, the only, sean connery, while the other one sports jolly roger moore.. never say never again vs octopussy, and i am one of the original james bond fanatics--so, how can i possibly miss out on the opportunity to attend the world premiere of connery’s flick?
the premiere was to be held at the mann national theater in westwood california.. was i excited or what?!.
tickets were impossible to obtain--unless--you had contacts in “the biz” and fortunately for me, i did.
-
-
Terry
sir82 : That was one of the best pieces you've written on here.
Oh, thank you.
Fun times makes for great memories.
I'm pulling together my so-called memoirs which I've been collating for
many years. I definitely am going to publish it as my 3rd book if can finish editing.
My JW years, my prison years, my Parole, escaping the cult and moving to California, Art business and Hollywood, 4 wives and 4 divorces, yep--it won't be dull, fer sure :) -
15
My Hollywood Memory : Sean Connery and Michael Caine
by Terry inthe year is 1983.. two new james bond films are slated for release, one of which will star the one, the only, sean connery, while the other one sports jolly roger moore.. never say never again vs octopussy, and i am one of the original james bond fanatics--so, how can i possibly miss out on the opportunity to attend the world premiere of connery’s flick?
the premiere was to be held at the mann national theater in westwood california.. was i excited or what?!.
tickets were impossible to obtain--unless--you had contacts in “the biz” and fortunately for me, i did.
-
-
Terry
Frank Oz directing.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=exqXoi878M4
