Elevator, Elevator, take me home
- Stars
There is a joke about a family of country bumpkins regarding an
elevator for the first time. They had never seen one before. They watch
transfixed as an old woman in a wheel chair rolls in. The doors close and the
family watches intently as the numbers for the floors light up above the door,
stop, and then start counting down. The doors open and a beautiful woman walks
out.
The father gets really excited and says, "Quick Son, shove
your Mom in there!"
Now, I'm no country bumpkin. I
can negotiate my way in and out of elevators rather deftly. I've been on
elevators that rattled and clanked with every nuance of the chortling room
threatening disaster. I've been on elevators that hummed great distances and
dozens of floors swiftly as I marveled at their efficiency. So far I have taken
an elevator ride on every continent except South America and Antarctica, but it
is only a recent development that I ride an elevator without a preconceived
idea of my ride’s destination, except of course another story….(pun intended.)
Now, I still dread an elevator
ride to a tiresome job and hospital elevators that reek of 409 will forever
unnerve me, but I no longer travel in elevators with eyes clenched hoping it
has morphed into a teleportation device that will deposit me at my front
doorstep instead of another narrow ugly carpeted hotel hallway. Thankfully, I
no longer travel incessantly for my job.
Sadly, I'm not traveling a lot
these days either for work or pleasure.
But this is a travel blog and so
I better make something up right?
Please don’t click away fair
reader and move on in the great big internet world to find something better to
read. I know, this is a recent low for this ‘travel’ blog that has had its “ups
and downs” in the past, but we have never hit the basement before. But stay for a
while longer, you might find a nugget of pleasure in continuing to read today’s
entry.
I’ve had my share of unique
experiences on elevators. My earliest recollection of an elevator ride was at
the old Bamberger’s department store in Newark. A visit to this vast
multi-storied bastion of commerce was a must at Christmas and somewhere in the
family’s box of photos is a picture of me dripping from Santa’s lap, my face
flushed with tears. The store also featured special exhibits and I remember
once traveling there with
the nuns from my grammar school to see the display of
some saint’s relics. To this young guy from Harrison, traveling to the big city
of Newark just across the river was exciting. The opulence of Bam’s was enthralling
and no better an example of this were the ornate elevators run by operators wearing
white gloves. You’d tell him your desired department (I always hoped Mom asked
for lingerie) he’d give you a slight nod and with a flourish closed the gates
and commandeered the lever and we chortled to our destination. |
| Bamberger's in NewarK |
Incidentally, my father used to
work as an elevator operator, but was fired because he kept forgetting the route.
Speaking of my Dad, he always wanted to take us into NYC to visit the World Trade Center and ride the elevator there. It was touted as one of the swiftest in the world, whisking its charges to the topmost floors in a matter of seconds. (Dad was an honorary member of the Vacations From Home team, to even consider such an excursion as a way of "vacationing.")
Sadly, I was never brave enough to travel to the "Top of the World" observation deck and stand outside on the ill-fated south tower 107 floors up and passed on the opportunity.
Well, in keeping with Dad’s
idea of a mini-vacation. There are some very unique elevators in this world,
perhaps worth a visit? Popular mechanics recently posted an article about 18
strange elevators throughout the world. Read the article here…
 |
| Genoa, Italy |
Crowded elevators are not fun,
especially when someone has a coughing fit, or someone insists on facing inward
from the doors, like a “High Noon” stare down to see who will flinch first with
the slightest stuttering of the elevator.
I’d much prefer to ride alone, although sometimes fleeting connections
are made. Alluring perfume or a bared shoulder or nape usually adds to the
fantasy. How many romances have I missed when she was deposited on a different
floor than mine? The slightest charming utterance from me perhaps would have
changed my life! Or, gotten my face slapped?
I’ve shared elevators rides with
a lot of people! Sometimes they are famous. These particular rides stand out in
my recollections.
The Today Show studios have been
located in a former bank for nearly two decades now. A small, slow elevator,
originally designed for transporting money and other valuables to the below
ground vaults now take crew and talent and guests to green rooms, sets and the
control room. It may be faster to climb the stairs, but I was able to ride it
once with Mariah Carey and later Bo Derek! I passed on the opportunity to
inform Ms. Derek she was an “11” in my eyes! Once, Katie Couric (and me) were
serenaded by a guitar wielding security guard with a rousing rendition of Feliz
Navidad, her big grin never wavering with the awkward situation.
My years at NBC offered me
opportunities galore to ride elevators with a slew of notables; usually this
occurred more frequently during the weekends when SNL (Saturday Night Live) was
in production. My feeble attempts at witty banter were usually met with oval
disbelieving eyes.
I once shared a ride with Marv
Albert, a wonderful sports broadcaster. We were working the NBA Hall of Fame
induction ceremony in Springfield, MA one year. When we arrived at our floor,
he let out his signature…”yes… and it’s good”… I used to work a lot of Knicks
games and once rode the elevator with John Starks. I did not try to give him
pointers.
My time while working for Frank
Sinatra from 1986-91 was even more enthralling as I’ve ridden elevators with
all sorts of celebrities. Here are a few:
Returning to the hotel after a
show at a Columbus, Ohio race track, (the stage was erected on the oval
infield), I shared a ride with the drummer from Kiss….I don’t know his name.
Kiss had performed that same night in town.
I waded through the crowds, the
security guards had to let me through because of my pass, and when I entered
the elevator the drummer slumped in the corner worried with my presence. He was
without his signature face paint after all. I allayed his fears and calmly
asked him how his show went and told him I worked the Sinatra show. He suddenly
warmed, we were compadres in the entertainment industry after all, and not some
annoying fan. We chattered like best buds for 30 secs or so. Such is the joy of
traveling on the quick.
The climate was different when I
shared a ride with Roger Waters from Pink Floyd. When I surprised him and his
entourage I was met with glaring stares. I had just attended their show in Hartford,
Connecticut. Frank was performing at the arena the next night and some of our
crew members knew some of their crew members and we got in for free. It was a
great show, especially since it was free. The arena and the hotel are somehow
attached and after visiting my room briefly I thought to go down to the hotel
lobby for an adult beverage when I met Mr. Waters. Because of the stern faces
greeting me, I did not think they were interested in my Sinatra connection.
I’m sure there’s more to relate
here, but I am sure I’ve bored you enough. Suffice it to say that elevators can
lead to good or bad, happiness or sadness, friendships can be forged, and faces
can be slapped… but yes…that face slapping bit is …another story.
By the way, the title of this entry is lifted from a song by a group from Montreal, Canada. Here is the video from this lovely song.
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