Anyone who knows me surely agrees that I am not one to brag.
Wait a minute. My wife just read the first sentence and has issued a second opinion. “Boaster,” she says. “Arrogant.” Not sure what she means by all this.
I simply and humbly want to challenge anyone to match my list of celebrities I have stood next to on random elevator rides.
Let’s get right into it.
1. Moses/Ben Hur (Charlton Heston). Mid 1990s, Westin Hotel, Indianapolis. I was riding from an upper floor to a professional development meeting by myself when the door opened, and Mr. Heston entered. Just the two of us. He carried neither a staff nor a stone tablet. His brown blazer indicated no chariot races on the calendar that day. He made no eye contact. Heston was tall and handsome, a fine figure of a man who had parted the Red Sea, delivered the Ten Commandments, and deftly driven horse drawn chariots around the Roman Colosseum. He had faced down death and grave dangers. I was tall and headed to a meeting of guidance counselors. Out of mutual respect, no words were spoken.
2. Magic Johnson. Early 2000s, somewhere on the NCAA trail. My wife and four youngest children standing like toy soldiers in the hotel elevator; we all look up to see a grinning giant enter the small space. He made eye contact with everyone. A man accompanying Mr. Johnson smiled as well and said, “Magic, this is the family of Adam Ballinger.” Through an even bigger grin, Magic spoke affirmation to all of us, then to my youngest daughter Audrey he bent over close and asked, “How old are you, young lady?’ She stared dumbstruck, opened her mouth, and aspirated an unintelligible sound. Magic’s smile broadened. The scene has been reenacted often by Audrey’s unforgiving brothers at family gatherings over the years.
3. B.B. King. Embassy Suites, Indianapolis North. Circa 1990. I had seen posters in the area of the hotel promoting B.B. King’s appearance at a local club. My wife and I along with our five kids were holed up in a hotel room for the weekend. It was one of those special weekend promotions that offered access to the hotel pool for the kids and a free drink for adults at the end of the day. The pool was nice, but we came for the free drink. My 8-year-old son, David, and I entered the elevator in our swimsuits and flip flops to find an exhausted looking man on a folding stool in the back corner. It was unmistakably the King of the Blues holding close his famed guitar, Lucille. He made no eye contact and indeed appeared tired as though the thrill was truly gone. As we left the elevator I excitedly asked, “David! You know who that was? That was B.B. King! Have you ever heard of him?” David, “Huh-uh. Where’s the pool?”
4. Pat Paulsen. Ramada Inn at the Indianapolis Airport, 1995 or so. This is my favorite. Paulsen was a deadpan comedian who made a great splash on the hugely popular Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour in the late 1960s. So popular was he that Paulsen ran for president as a mock candidate in 1968 through 1996. He received tens of thousands of write-in votes. His motto was, “We’ve upped our standards, now up yours!” I was with my brother when he excitedly said, “I saw Pat Paulsen in the hotel lobby this morning!” I laughed, “Sure you did. I suppose Tommy Smothers was with him too?” He seemed hurt by my skepticism. We proceeded to the elevator, punched the down button and the door opened to Pat Paulsen. I looked at my brother in disbelief. It was just the three of us, now descending. My brother, the braver of us, took a chance and said, “Are you performing in the area?” “In Anderson,” Paulsen replied without looking up. He then stepped off the elevator without a good-bye or even a nod. I guess it says something about the state of his career from being the king of comedy on the most popular TV show in the world to working the casino room at Anderson, Ind., and staying at the Ramada Inn.
5. Muhammad Ali. Early 2000s. Youngest son Kevin and I entered the concourse surrounding the Breslin Center at Michigan State University. It was about an hour before a Sunday afternoon nationally televised basketball game. There was a buzz of excitement in the air and rumors swirled that The Greatest was in the building. As we breached the last steps, we entered the milieu of concessions, trophy displays and restrooms. From our right arose a great clatter as a slow-moving entourage moved from the elevator to the center walkway. At the center a man with a frozen face and shuffling feet moved our way.
We stepped closer. His bright eyes defied his Parkinson’s Disease as he saw Kevin and leaned our way. He stopped just a few feet from us, stared directly at Kevin and began to shadow box him. Soon enough Ali, the world’s most famous athlete in his time, took his smiling eyes and began the long shuffle down the hall. We were awestruck. I know some of you rules mavens will call foul here because this encounter was outside of the elevator. Report me to the authorities if you must, but I am counting it. Final answer.
Interestingly, my children and members of their generation are enthralled with Ali. The history is compelling. It is difficult to explain to them what a polarizing figure he was in the nascent days of the civil rights movement. Ali certainly and rightfully won in the court of public opinion, although the ride to get there was rough.
Here’s The Thing: Any regrets? Yes, and here I intend no humor. At the time of my ride with Charlton Heston, he was president of the National Rifle Association, and it was during their annual convention. Heston was famous for holding his rifle above his head and defiantly proclaiming that the only way to take his rifle from him was to pry it from his “cold dead hands.” I wish I would have had the courage to tell him that I did not want his rifle nor did anyone else I knew. And, in a time warped sort of way, I wish I would have asked how he would respond to the uniquely American mass shootings of school children and innocent citizens that his absolutist stance to the Second Amendment has produced, given that virtually anyone can own a military style weapon. As for the other rather remarkable encounters, no regrets, just good memories and fodder for great pieces to randomly incorporate into any number of conversations.
ken.ballinger@yahoo.com
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Editor’s Note: This is one of a series of articles written by a group of retired and current teachers — Ken Ballinger, Billy Kreigh, Marianne Darr-Norman, and Anna Spalding. Their intent is to spur discussions. You may also voice your thoughts and reactions via The News-Banner’s letters to editor.
