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Miracurl on Ice

1/30/2018

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I don’t know about you, but I was glued to the television for this year’s Winter Olympic Games. Of course, I was expecting the snowboard halfpipe and the bobsled competition to be exciting, but nothing could have prepared me for the pure joy and pride I felt watching the United States curling team take home the gold medal for the first time in history. I love to see the underdog come out on top, even if the underdog turns out to be representing the most powerful country in the world.  That’s what got me thinking about my own brush with Olympic greatness.
It was the summer of 1984 and the Olympics were coming to Los Angeles. I was a limousine driver and had just started my own one car service. A couple weeks prior to the start of the games, I got a call from a casual acquaintance named Andy to inquire if my limo was available for the weekend of the opening ceremonies. I had no idea what Andy did for a living and he explained that he was in charge of sports medicine for the Saudi Arabian soccer team and that this would be their first year to compete in the Olympics. He went on to say that he would need transportation for himself and five of his female friends to and from Los Angeles.
We arranged for the pickup at our mutual friend Peggy’s house in Costa Mesa. When I arrived, I was surprised to see that Andy had with him five of the most beautiful woman I had ever met. Andy had requested that I stock the limo with champagne so before we headed out, I asked him if he’d like for me to open a bottle for him, but he replied, “I’ve got this handled dude.” After only a few minutes on the road, I heard the “pop” of the champagne cork immediately followed by a piercing scream. Andy had launched the cork right between the eyes of one of the ladies sitting across from him. For the rest of the night, this poor girl had a big round dot in the middle of her forehead, which must have been a little unsettling for the Saudis.
Our first stop was a private party suite at the Beverly Hill’s Hotel. When I say suite, I’m talking about a whole floor with a full service bar, massive appetizer spread and a special table with bowls full of “party favors.” After all, this was the eighties. The strange part was that besides me, Andy, the five ladies and couple of armed body guards, there was no one else in the room.
Then suddenly, Prince Sheik Yerbouti (for lack of a better name) of Saudi Arabia and his entourage entered the room. The prince and his buddies were all dressed in designer suits except for one little guy dressed in traditional Saudi garb that I nicknamed “Tip”. Every time the Prince would point at someone, Tip would peel off a hundred dollar bill and hand it to them. Although Tip and I didn’t speak the same language, we became fast friends.  After all the introductions were finished, we loaded everyone, including the two armed guards into the prince’s private Mercedes and the limo and headed to an unmarked nightclub located somewhere in the underground parking lot at the Beverly Center.
As we headed towards our destination, I kept playing a scene from a movie over and over in my head in which a foreign dignitary is kidnapped while riding in a limo. The first person to be eliminated is the armed guard, but you can guess who they take out next. That’s right, yours truly, but as it turned out the night went off without a hitch and I made sure that everyone except for the girl with the red dot on her forehead made it home safely.
It’s like I always say,“Keep your friends close and the dude with the roll of hundreds even closer”.

 
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    About Wali,
    The Grateful Dude

    In my formative years, I was lucky enough to attend an amazing high school modeled after the freedom school from the Billie Jack films. The curriculum included outdoor education, pottery and organic farming and emphasized values like creativity, self awareness and a strong sense of community. I spent several summers traveling from show to show with The Grateful Dead and found that not only could I beat the crap out of a plastic bucket in a drum circle, I was also quite the imported beer salesman. My early career started off in the eighties driving limousine for posers, drug dealers and wannabe rock stars in Los Angeles. In the late eighties, I was introduced to the former owner of Paradise Lakes Nudist Resort who had just seduced and proposed to my roommate while she was on vacation in Florida. Fred took me aside one afternoon  and told me, “I like you, kid and since I’m taking your roommate and I’m pretty sure you can’t afford this beach rental on your own, why not come on out to Florida? I’ll find you a place to stay, give you a job and you’ll be surrounded by naked women”. So I loaded up my truck and moved to Paradise. Lakes, that is. Swimmin’ pools. Porno stars. (insert banjo solo here).

    I wake up every morning (well almost every morning) knowing that today is a wonderful gift to be unwrapped and explored. I believe that every day is filled with limitless possibilities and endless abundance. I’m convinced that our true purpose in life is to interact with our fellow beings and give witness to this amazing universe that surrounds us.

    If you are searching for miracles in life, you need go no farther than your backyard to realize that we are living in the midst of the greatest miracle of all.

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