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No, that's not a typo. I don't know how to say this. I tried to think of some clever way to lead up to the story, but it's really just to bizarre to even play around with. So I'll just spit it out. I went golfing today. And while I was golfing I met Mr. T. Now, I don't know about you, but when I think golf the first name that pops into my head is Mr. T.
Just a little background: Bill, my brother-in-law, organized another golf outing for his friends and family. We went to Apple Mountain Golf & Country Club in Warren Country, NJ. It's a beautiful course, but the link takes you to a really lousy web site. Basically this course is built on the side of a mountain that used to be part of an apple orchard. I don't really know how they got their name, though. The weather was gorgeous and the view from the top of the mountain was great.
Speaking of great, I golfed like crap. I mean, we're talking actual feces here. I was all cocky after having shot my best ever score of 95 the week before and went out and stunk the place up. I'd say I hit about 33% percent of my shots the way I wanted to. The rest were complete crap.
What's that you're saying? "Enough golf, get the part about Mr.T?"
Oh, OK.
So we're sitting in the bar drinking beer and talking when a bunch of guys come in the bar. One of the guys is wearing a floppy army fatigue hat, a loose, blue denim shirt, stars-and-stripes parachute pants and stars-and-stripes Chuck Taylor high tops. "Cool shoes" I thought to myself. Then I looked a little closer at the guy's face. It looked an awful lot like Mr. T. "Ha," I said to myself, "that guy looks an awful lot like Mr. T." I turned to my father-in-law who was sitting to my left, "Hey, that guy looks an awful lot like Mr. T!" The mysterious stranger took off his hat to reveal a red, white, and blue, stars-and-stripes bandanna do-rag on his head. "Hmmmmm," I said to myself "that looks an awful lot like Mr. T." Someone else in the bar, who is obviously much quicker on the uptake than I am, went and asked this guy for his autograph. "Huh, I think that's Mr. T", I thought to myself. (I'm very clever, don't you think?)
Now that Mr. T was "discovered", everyone wanted an autograph. Mr. T graciously went out to his car (or van, I guess. I mean, Mr. T always drove the van) and came back a huge portfolio full of publicity pictures. He stationed himself at the middle of the bar and basically held court. I was on the left side of the bar and I started yelling things out as he was signing stuff.
Me: Mr. T!, you're one of my favorite Stern guests!
Mr. T I really appreciate that, brother! Ya just got to keep talking if ya want to say anything on Howard's show!
Me: So was George Peppard a pain in the ass to work with?
Suddenly Mr. T stopped signing and looked at me with a weird look on his face. I don't know why I asked that question - I just wanted to ask him something other than "what was it like doing Rocky III". "Uh-oh", I thought "here it comes. He's pissed I asked a question like that.". But he looked at me a little bit longer and I realized that 1) when Mr. T is out in public he didn't regularly get questions about George Peppard and 2) I unwittingly discovered that George Peppard was a pain in the ass to work with.
Mr. T: (with a sly smile on his face) Now my momma always told me not to speak bad of the dead.... Let's just say that some people on that show were a little jealous of some other people's fame on that show."
Me: Yeah, at that time you probably had a much higher Q rating than him. It was probably through the roof!
Now that I've used an quasi-"insider" T.V. term on Mr. T, he gives me the look of love.
Mr. T: That's right! That's right!
At this point, I could really do no wrong. I just kept tossing out subjects and he just ran with them making jokes and doing a really good job of entertaining the crowd that was growing around him. And make no mistake, there really was a crowd growing around him. Mr. T isn't so much of a celebrity anymore- I think you could call him a cultural icon. He is immediately recognizable. Shut up. So I didn't figure it out right away. Everyone else in the bar did. But you know what I mean. You say the name "Mr. T" to someone and they know who you're talking about. You put a picture of Mr. T next to a picture of Dick Chaney and I'll guarantee that more people will know Clubber Lang than the current Vice President of the United States. I don't know what that actually says about us as a nation, but I think it is true nonetheless.
Another thing that helped me out here is my big stupid brain that holds every bit of incredibly useless information it comes in contact with. Check out my next question.
Me: So where is your mom now? Wasn't the first thing you did after you hit it big was buy your mom a big house?...... Hey, didn't you have some kind of legal troubles with the neighbors of that house because you were cutting down all the trees?
Now he doesn't know what to think. Am I a Mr. T superfan? He's a little stunned.
Mr. T Yeah, wow, hey, you remember that. Well, yeah I got my momma a house. And I said to them neighbors, "it's my money, they're my trees, I can do what I want wit 'em."
Me: "So were you actually out playing golf? I don't see you as the golf type.
Mr. T Naw, I'm out here with my friends, I'm just drivin' the cart.
Me: "I saw you drive the van on the A-Team, I'm not sure I'd want you driving my golf cart."
Me:(calling out to the guys at the bar) Oh my God, I'm having a flashback! This man once had Nancy Reagan sitting on his lap!
Mr T. Hee hee hee. That's when I knew I'd made it. When they invited ME to the White House.
Me: (calling out to the guys at the bar) Oh my God, I'm having a another flashback! This man had his own cereal! How many people have their own cereal?
Me: (after noticing the "Mr. T TCB" tattoo on his left bicep) Did they cover that up with makeup for Rocky III? Or did you not have the tattoo yet?
Mr. T: Naw, it was there. I was just too fast. (shadowboxes a bit) You've got to go back and watch it again and this time slow it down 'cause I'm too fast for the camera!
Me: Mr. T! Are you out there on the Internet? Is there a Mr. T dot com? Can I e-mail you at MrT@mrt.com?
Mr. T: Naw, I don't have any of that. I'm not into that instant contact, instant messenger stuff. If it's faster than Federal Express, it's too fast for Mr. T!
I've made this sound like it was the Alan and Mr. T show, but some of the other guys we were with were getting off some great lines. And Mr. T was coming right back with his own.
Raymond: Mr. T! How about you and I go out to the first tee and I fight you?
Mr. T: (looking Raymond up and down) Man, I got chains bigger than you!
This next one totally threw me. Even me, the self-proclaimed king of trivia and esoterica, didn't get this next reference. But Mr. T did.
Mac: Mr. T! What's your prediction for the fight?
Mr. T: Pain.
Duh, the quote from Rocky III. With a perfect delivery from Mr. T, I might add. I guess he does that line all the time. But when I first heard Mac ask him that, I thought he was talking about a real, upcoming fight. I can be a dope sometimes.
All the while we were talking, Mr. T was signing pictures left and right. Some people were getting back in line asking for multiple pictures for their friends. People were handing Mr. T cellphones and asking him to talk to their friends. And Mr. T was doing it! A older woman came down from the dining room upstairs and told Mr T. it was her sixtieth birthday today and she would love to have a picture taken with Mr. T. He had his picture taken with everybody! When he ran out of pictures, he went back out to his car (van) and got more. We just kept talking. He answered questions about his fight with cancer, the filming of Rocky III, 1-800-COLLECT commercials, Wrestlemania, and even the old World's Toughest Bouncer Contest when he busted through that door at the end to ring the bell. The guy was gracious, funny and personable. When we finally had to leave, I broke down and asked him for a picture. When I shook his hand, he looked at me and said "show me some love, brother", and hugged me. And there's nothing like being hugged by Mr. T.
In the end we stayed at the bar an extra 2 hours just hanging out with Mr. T. Mr. T seemed to enjoy himself as much as we did. Like I said before, he's not really a celebrity anymore, but the man can still create a buzz when walks in a room. I can't imagine that doesn't happen to him where ever he goes. It was an experience.
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