Back in Houston
Here's a quick post to announce my return to the humid and sticky climate of south Texas. I was back home in Chicago and Indiana over the weekend (Friday-Tuesday) to attend a friend's wedding and see family and friends and even squeeze in a baseball game, "Chicago style," in that the Cubs lose. But a good weekend to be sure. We rode planes, trains and automobiles. Chicago weather in June/July is great. Today in Houston, it's raining and STILL hot and humid.
A funny thing happened on the way back to the car from the airport last night. On the day we left for Chicago, Katrina went to work in the morning and, like everyday, parked her car in the parking garage of the Wyndham Hotel which is directly adjacent to her building. I took a bus to the part of town where she works and we caught yet another bus to the airport a few miles away. Upon our return, Katrina felt she had it on pretty good authority from the Wyndham that though we're not Wyndham guests, it was cool to take the free Hotel shuttle from the terminal back to the Wyndham where we were parked. We got off the plane and ten minutes later the shuttle arrived. Katrina climbed in with the smaller bag, and the driver, William, loaded the larger carry-on into the back. Now seated in the van, we pull away and we're off. I figured the less William knew about us or our fragile non-guest arrangement with the free shuttle ride, the better off we'd all be. He begins by making small talk and pretty much goes straight for the throat:
William: So, what you guys in town for?
Katrina: Oh, we LIVE in town!
She answered him so darn fast, I had no chance to come at him with a story about how we were just visiting friends, or going to some convention or something.
William: Oh, okay. But you know only guests can ride the shuttle.
Katrina and Myself: (in unison) Oh yeah. No we were - I mean, uhhh...
I tried to cover up her remark by spinning some cockamamy yarn about how we were meeting friends at the hotel and were paying for their rooms or something like that. He really wasn't listening anyway as he was already starting in with his whole "just take care of the driver" routine.
William: Now the shuttle is for guests ONLY. But I ain't got no beef as long as you take care of the DRIVER. The taxi cab is about twenty-three dollars, but we ain't got to go that route. I'm just sayin' take care of the DIVER.
He repeated his "take care of the driver" mantra so many times; even the most vigilant Buddhist monk would have rolled up his mat and caught the next flight out. By this time, we were scrambling to come up with some cash, but were pretty well cashless. I felt kind of bad because I would have liked to tip the guy even if he wasn't trying to extort money from us. Still, here we were - utter stowaways. I remember thinking that this was something straight out of one of those Bertie Wooster stories. I needed someone like Jeeves to "cluster round" and come up with some brilliant solution. So, using a combination of stunted whispers and telepathy, we pretty much settled on telling him, once we arrived, that we were assured it was okay to take the shuttle since she worked at the ExxonMobil building right next door. Katrina even had an ID if it came to that. But once we pulled up to the hotel, Katrina grabbed her bag and buzzed off towards the hotel entrance like one of those frightened caribou you see on those nature programs. William unloaded my bag from the back and I thought, "Screw it; I'll just do the same." He threw out his arms out to the side and did a "where you going" take. Never changing my flight path towards the hotel, I weakly explained how we're parked upstairs and that she works next door and so forth. He said he didn't care and that if it was him, they'd call it "stealing" and he'd be "in handcuffs." I know he just wanted some money, so he gave up when I mentioned the hotel said it was fine. He didn't want to get in trouble and we just wanted to go home. After I finally caught up with Katrina and we had a pretty good laugh over the whole thing.
End of story.
A funny thing happened on the way back to the car from the airport last night. On the day we left for Chicago, Katrina went to work in the morning and, like everyday, parked her car in the parking garage of the Wyndham Hotel which is directly adjacent to her building. I took a bus to the part of town where she works and we caught yet another bus to the airport a few miles away. Upon our return, Katrina felt she had it on pretty good authority from the Wyndham that though we're not Wyndham guests, it was cool to take the free Hotel shuttle from the terminal back to the Wyndham where we were parked. We got off the plane and ten minutes later the shuttle arrived. Katrina climbed in with the smaller bag, and the driver, William, loaded the larger carry-on into the back. Now seated in the van, we pull away and we're off. I figured the less William knew about us or our fragile non-guest arrangement with the free shuttle ride, the better off we'd all be. He begins by making small talk and pretty much goes straight for the throat:
William: So, what you guys in town for?
Katrina: Oh, we LIVE in town!
She answered him so darn fast, I had no chance to come at him with a story about how we were just visiting friends, or going to some convention or something.
William: Oh, okay. But you know only guests can ride the shuttle.
Katrina and Myself: (in unison) Oh yeah. No we were - I mean, uhhh...
I tried to cover up her remark by spinning some cockamamy yarn about how we were meeting friends at the hotel and were paying for their rooms or something like that. He really wasn't listening anyway as he was already starting in with his whole "just take care of the driver" routine.
William: Now the shuttle is for guests ONLY. But I ain't got no beef as long as you take care of the DRIVER. The taxi cab is about twenty-three dollars, but we ain't got to go that route. I'm just sayin' take care of the DIVER.
He repeated his "take care of the driver" mantra so many times; even the most vigilant Buddhist monk would have rolled up his mat and caught the next flight out. By this time, we were scrambling to come up with some cash, but were pretty well cashless. I felt kind of bad because I would have liked to tip the guy even if he wasn't trying to extort money from us. Still, here we were - utter stowaways. I remember thinking that this was something straight out of one of those Bertie Wooster stories. I needed someone like Jeeves to "cluster round" and come up with some brilliant solution. So, using a combination of stunted whispers and telepathy, we pretty much settled on telling him, once we arrived, that we were assured it was okay to take the shuttle since she worked at the ExxonMobil building right next door. Katrina even had an ID if it came to that. But once we pulled up to the hotel, Katrina grabbed her bag and buzzed off towards the hotel entrance like one of those frightened caribou you see on those nature programs. William unloaded my bag from the back and I thought, "Screw it; I'll just do the same." He threw out his arms out to the side and did a "where you going" take. Never changing my flight path towards the hotel, I weakly explained how we're parked upstairs and that she works next door and so forth. He said he didn't care and that if it was him, they'd call it "stealing" and he'd be "in handcuffs." I know he just wanted some money, so he gave up when I mentioned the hotel said it was fine. He didn't want to get in trouble and we just wanted to go home. After I finally caught up with Katrina and we had a pretty good laugh over the whole thing.
End of story.
posted by Clint at Wednesday, July 06, 2005
28 Comments:
That's exactly right. It was one of those "made for TV" moments. The freeze frame would be of me right after I stepped into the bucket of soapy water.
With Patrick Duffy as your dad and Bronson Pinchot as the rude French bell boy.
I'll get Alan Thicke to start work on the theme song.
Don't forget, it also needs a really lame Atari 2600 or NES game based on the show. And a cereal. "Take Care of the Driver-O's!"
The video game will have you driving around the airport picking up passengers. If they don't "Take Care of the Driver," you get to pull them out of the van where it goes into a fight screen. From there, you can use luggage as weapons. Plus, the occasional buzzard will swoop down to harm you. Bats and scorpions, too. Why not?
The cereal will be in the shape of little shuttle busses and steering wheels...with marshmallows. The box will feature Mr. T grimacing at the camera in a chauffeur's uniform complete with the bling-bling.
Yes, Clint, you have the right idea. The game must not bear the slightest resemblance to reality or the original show, otherwise it just wouldn't be a licensed game. There can also be an overly elaborate promotion advertised in the box that involves attaining a ridiculously high score and photographing the screen, all in an effort to obtain a chance to "ride in a limo and be dissed by the real Mr. T."
Imagine the disappointed look on that kid's face when he realizes Mr. T is a 300 pound intoxicated diva. The prize limo ride will be only about 30 seconds around the studio parking lot. Then it's "here's your 'Take Care of the Driver' lunch box and pajamas. Have a nice day, kid."
I was kind of hoping for Nickelodeon's "Take Care of the Driver and Friends Smile Hour." By the way, the focus group results are in and Tina Yothers is out. We're talking to Gillian Anderson. The show is being skewed more towards mystery/crime than crime/mystery.
I'm getting word from CBS right now. They're keen on a new reality show called "The Driver." The idea is to have 12 dopey twentysomethings compete in limo-centric challenges, such as speed tipping and sweet talking. Whichever guys impress the limo driver the most at the end of each episode gets a rose and a free limo gift certificate. The grand prize winner at the end of the season gets a lifetime supply of rides (tips not included.)
There's also been some buzz on a Ben Stiller movie in the works called "Takin' Care of the Driver." Ving Rhames plays the gruff driver and Stiller is the cheap limo stowaway who meets up with a cast of zany characters and manages to say the most inappropriate things on accident. Owen Wilson wil play the womanizing police detective. It'll be hilarious!
Please tell me Queen Latifah will play the sassy shuttle dispatcher. Also, we need Bobcat Goldthwait to play the hotel guard. He'll reprise his role as Officer Zed from Police Academy. He'll insist on being called "officer" though he'd been kicked off the force years ago. That's the running gag.
If this script garners as much interest as I think it will, the sky's the limit with the cast.
This just in:
The Game Show Network is ready to produce a show called "Who's Takin' Care of the Diver??" In this show, contestants sit in the "Driver's Seat" while the "Celebrity Stowaway" climbs in the back behind the tinted window and makes "small talk" about their career. The contestant who guesses the celebrity fastest gets "taken care of." Big time. Richard Karn says he'll host and we have Penn Jillette as a back up.
Jesus. This whole thing is getting out of hand. Let's not let this project self-destruct before it even clears the runway. I'm sure we could bribe Tina with just a couple hundred bucks. Heck, a combo basket from Long John Silver should be enough for her. You take Tina to Long John's, I'll meet with Gillian. Deal?
This is outrageous. I say we offer Tina a Hardees value meal and nothing more. As for Gillian, I think she wants too much of the royalties. Thats no good if we make it into syndication. I'm already planning a script for the 100th episode. Celebrity cameos galore. And clips. Lots of clips.
HARDEE'S???
You underestimate Tina. I say we get her to Long John's, and then over to Baker's Square for pie before it's too late.
We need to cut our losses!!!
What's all this crap about Gillian? Who the hell does she think he is? No one from Gilligan's Island received royalties. That's what made that show such a huge syndication powerhouse! What could be better than getting your face on TV long after the gig is up?? She's being ridiculous. We need to remind her how much the word "Gillian" looks like "Gilligan." Look at all the females from Gilligan's Island, now. They're all superstars!
Bakers Square? You fool! We don't have that kind of money to throw around. We have to pay Corey Feldman to do your voice in the PS2 game adaptation, and it ain't growing on trees. Plus, we've already sold as many "Driver Fruit Snacks" as possible. As for Gillian, maybe we need to let her go. I'm thinking going the Lindsey Lohan angle with Lance Bass playing you in the series. We take it to MTV and get Usher to do the theme song. That's hot.
Okay, I just got off the phone with Bono. There's a 50/50 chance he'll peform at the benefit. As for location, I'm thinking somewhere relatively inexpensive. Any ideas?
I've got our stable of musicians working on a single for charity, "Takin' Care of the World." Let's work on getting Sting in on the action. He's a sucker for this kind of stuff. As for Mellencamp, I say we litter the stage with cornstalks, lettuce, and some watermelons. Really go all out for the produce driver angle.
Of course, there will be a ton of merchandising opportunity. We've got the authentic "Driver" limo hats, tuxedo t-shirts, novelty hitchhiking thumb, and rubber wrist band with the words "One World. One Voice. One Driver." inscripted on it. DVD's of the whole shebang will be out just in time for the holidays.
Now we're talkin'! It's time we get off our lazy asses and become proactive for once in our pathetic lives. And we need to encourage the rest of the world to do the same.
Mellencamp's in? Great! What about Willy Nelson? Someone needs to look into that!! GODDAMMIT, PEOPLE, I can't do EVERYTHING ALONE!!!
Sorry about that, this event is stressing me out, already. That's why it needs to be fun. I'll call Super Dave Osborne's people. We'll see if we can arrange some sort of cannon stunt where he flies over the crowd into a giant lemon meringue pie on the stage or something. Maybe a French silk. I CAN'T FUCKING DECIDE!! I NEED SOME HELP HERE!!!!!
Imagine all the huge names in that jam! I see something like this:
Piano: Paul McCartney
Piano: Elton John
Piano: Billy Joel
Piano: Phil Collins
Organ: Steve Winwood
Organ: Billy Preston
Keyboard: Stevie Wonder
Keyboard: Brian Wilson
Keyboard: The guy who plays for Brian Wilson
Keyboard: The OTHER guy who plays for Brian Wilson
Guitar: Eric Clapton
Guitar: Mark Knopfler
Guitar: Jimmy Buffett
Guitar: John Mayer
Guitar: Keith Richards
Guitar: Lindsey Buckingham
Guitar: GE Smith
Guitar: Lenny Kravitz
Guitar: Robert Smith
Guitar: John COUGAR Mellencamp
Guitar: The guy who plays for Mellencamp
Guitar: Whoever plays guitar for Coldplay
Guitar: Bonnie Rait
Bass: Sting
Bass: Flea
Bass: Paul McCartney (a little)
Bass: T-Bone Wolk
Drums: Ringo Starr
Drums: Phil Collins
Drums: Mick Fleetwood
Percussion: That bald guy who always plays percussion for these jams
Tamborine: Mick Jaggar
Vocals: Everyone
Well, Bob Hope is dead. Jerry Lewis has his plate full, but I was thinking of Dick Van Patten. People LOVE Dick Van Patten.
Fellas, I'm thinking about assembling a modern day odd couple. The new Martin and Lewis. I like to refer to them as "the Two Dicks." Yes, thats right, Dick van Patten and Andy Dick. They could MC for sure. Its the yin and the yang. Screw CG Bob Hope. Hope is out, Dicks are in!
Think of the madcap hilarity onstage! We could have them doing skits in between sets. Vaudeville baby. Its all about the showmanship, and these two have it in spades. And we'll save a bundle in costumes since Andy Dick usually ends up running around in his underwear anyways.
This way, we can appeal to every demographic.
I've talked to them both and we need to let Andy know that DVP WILL NOT appear on stage in a diaper while Andy wears his do-MAN-atrix leather speedo and whips him for being a "naughty little Dick."
Why do I get the feeling that Richard "Dick" Lewis wants a piece of this action? Perhaps he could be a stand in for one of the Dicks. His harmlessly neurotic humor could be a breath of fresh air for the whole concert. And, if nothing else, he could host a charity auction by selling off old Boku containers with his signature on them.
Ah, Boku. His hair was longer, then. He going pretty bald, now. I'm pretty sure Lewis will be willing. The last time I saw him, he was on WGN Morning News promoting something or another. How low should we start the bidding on those Boku boxes?
I've been thinking, and Richard "Dick" Lewis might not be a good choice. His stage presence relied on his hair, and let's face it, it ain't 1994 anymore, fellas. Maybe we could "pipe him in" via saellite and put him on the big screens in between sets. Better yet, let's talk to the Flaming Lips about just showing him doing one of his rambling monologues (sans audio) in the background during their set. They're into all that weird, trippy visual shit.
I'm getting the feeling you don't care for Richard Lewis much, Clint. But, lets put this all into perspective. Its all about the driver. Lets not forget his simple, yet heart-string-tugging plight.
"Tip me!"
I say we find (or build) the biggest f$!*ing coffee can we can and tell everyone to put their donations into it. And if they don't, Andy Dick will show up at their door wearing nothing but a diaper and a smile.
Mr. Bean? Hmm. I like the sound of it. Mr. T. was attached to this thing from the beginning, so we'll have to run it by him, first. I'm sure he'll like it. In the ring, he'll wear his Driver's uniform and shout "I PITTY THE FOOL WHO DRIVES THE MINI COOPER!"
As for the giant coffee can idea? BRILLIANCE! What we need to do is after the concert, we'll inflate giant helium balloons attached to the coffee can and (after we collect the money, of course) let it float away as our message to the world. "Take care of the diver, planet Earth." We'll hope it doesn't fall on anyone's property. Or, we could even attach rockets and send it into space. Our message to the Universe!
Well, I feel this thread drawing to a close, but if nothing else, I wanted it to hit 40 comments. That being said, the "Take Care of the Driver" craze is fallen on hard times. We're yesterdays news. The good news is that the benefit special was a roaring success. Andy Dick was barely clothed, so it obviously went well. The bad news is that most of the money went to the widows and orphans of dead limo drivers. Orphans, who needs them?
Sadly, the licensed video games, t-shirts, cereals, toothbrushes, and novelty alarm clocks are all in the bargain bins along with the dvds. Now, comes the obvious task at hand.
The comeback special!
Sadly, I have to agree with you. In this case, dreaming was 99% of the fun.
It's really strange that I hadn't heard of this alarm clock, though. So, I went to a few local flea markets to find one. I looked everywhere and asked a couple of vendors who all seemed to scoff at me for searching for something so "out of fashion," so "last week." As I was leaving one market in Conroe, Texas feeling utterly washed up and dejected, I spied a little one-legged black man sitting next to a table of unwanted junk novelty items and cheap plastic lamps and avocado green kitchen appliances. I thought "what the hell," so I went over there to have a look around. And then, there it was, tarnished and filthy. Behold! I pressed down on the plastic Mr. T head on the top and heard the phrase, "TIME TO TAKE CARE OF THE DRIVER, FOOL!" Delighted, I asked the little man how much he wanted for it. No response. I asked louder and he still did nothing. So, I waved my hand in his direction to and he finally looked at me. He was deaf. I held the Mr. T clock, and he held up two fingers. After mistaking his gesture as a peace sign, I realized he wanted only two dollars. Two dollars! It was then the bitter failure of the whole "Take Care of the Driver" project came into agonizing perspective for me. Still, I dug into my pocket and remembered I spent three dollars and change for a corn dog and pop over at the food court. I only had about a dollar seventy left. I showed him what money I had, and he shook his head "no" and looked away. That was it. Leaving that alarm clock behind as I walked to my car, I knew it meant I have to leave behind an era of my life. "Take Care of the Driver" is over. Oh, sure, I'll produce the comeback specials, promote new Driver-related albums, help write pilots for new "Driver" TV shows and approve future "Take Care of the Driver" retail products, but it won't be the same. For now we need to focus on the present. We need to flee to a foreign country. Why? There are several dozen parties suing us. It seems we failed to turn dollar one in profit!
But, in the end, it really wasn't about the money was it? Wait, nevermind. That was silly of me. The thing that we need to keep in perspective here, is that we made a difference. Dare I say, even helped to change the world. Yes, because every child that nagged their parents to get them a limo driver action figure complete with kung fu grip, removable jacket, and poseable arms and legs, knew that there was a moral behind all of this.
Take the money and run like hell.
Shine on you crazy driver.
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