About 12 years ago, I was dating a Baroness. How that came about and the lead up to this tale will have to wait for another time. This story is about how our lives lead us down unknown paths and connect us in ways we can never predict......
So, yes, a Baroness. I will, throughout this tale, out of discretion, simply call her that--The Baroness. We had met during Carnivale in Venice and I had pursued her across Europe to her home in London. She never used that title and I only found out about it when her ex-husband introduced himself to me as Baron ________ of Austria...("But you can call me Nicky", he said) She was an English "lady" who had "married in" (as they say) and----oh well----as mentioned, another tale.
After a month or so of long distance telephone calls and arrangements to meet here and there, I had returned to London, at her request, to see if her "connections" could establish some form of business for me there. She had arranged for me to stay at The London Outpost of the Carnegie Club. THE Carnegie Club is Skibo Castle in Scotland and is "members only." The "London Outpost" is a beautiful "grand" house, converted to hotel, near Sloane Square in London. With 11 rooms and suites it is a very elegant establishment. I soon found out HOW elegant when, after checking in and having my bags brought up to my suite by the Indian bellman, I had a knock on my door and, answering it, was introduced to "Your valet, sir, Jeremy." I assured him I did not need a "valet" and, thanking him, was about to close the door, when he stepped in and lifting one of my suitcases, carried it over to the closet. "Shall I prepare your clothes for this evening, sir?" he asked, noting "it IS part of the service..." I......let it be, and, relenting, said, "Of course." "Shall I fix you a drink, sir?" he asked. I said, "Yes---but---can I NOT be 'Sir?' How about calling me Tom? or if it is more proper, Thomas? "Thomas it is, sir" he said. And we both smiled and left it at that.
I got used to it. The Baroness and I had numerous appointments in the next few days and it DID become comforting to know that the clothes I was going to wear any given evening were cleaned, pressed and laid out for me when I returned from our business excursions.
So, when I informed Jeremy that I was going to be attending a private birthday party at a museum---with cocktails at The Ritz before, he, of course, asked "Formal? or Smart casual?" I had to say, "I'm not sure. I was told it was at St.Mary's, Lambeth. But it IS just a friend of a friends birthday party.....can I be 'stylish'? Is that 'smart casual?'" I had a pair of violet satiny/rayon slacks that I thought would "work", a white "cafe" shirt and a few pair of Prada shoes to choose from. He assured me that I would look "superior" and with a long Italian white scarf and my black leather overcoat,I must admit that I did just that. I went off to catch one of the famous London Cabs to The Ritz.
I had been told "I'll meet you in the bar," so that was where I went. The Ritz is a GRAND hotel and the lobby was absolutely stunning. I walked up and down the length of it soaking it all in and finally stepped into the Rivoli Bar near the one end of the long entry hall. A flute of Champagne and all was well.
About 10 minutes later, in swept The Baroness---with a large black trash bag. She was "steamed!" Apparently those famous London cabs were not too keen on having a lady with fireworks stuffed in a garbage bag in their back seat! She went on and on about having to explain that they WERE just fireworks and nothing more AND (I could only imagine the "turn" of the conversation and how she must have had a word or two for the cabbie. I was just beginning to get an indication of what dating a "Royal" could entail!) But her point was now "HOW are we going to get these to the party?" (holding up the bag in the bar at the Ritz Hotel and shaking it was NOT going to help the situation, I thought, but I had an idea) "I'll be right back," I said, and headed off to the front desk. There, I asked for, and was given (as it WAS raining outside) a large black umbrella. Returning to the bar and "Her Highness" I slightly opened the "brolly" and stuffing the bag down inside, pronounced us ready to go. She looked it up and down (and I held it next to the side of my black leather overcoat---"blending it in") and saying, "Brilliant!", we headed out to the cab station. One of the doorman hailed a cab for us and letting her lead the way in, I stepped in behind and quickly laid the bag down on the floor. Done. She looked at me with a big smile and leaning over gave me a kiss (I could just hear her thinking "This YANK does seem to know a trick or two")
The birthday party was being held in St.Mary's Cathedral---now converted into a museum. The "main hall" had been taken over and was being used for the birthday party---drinks, dinner and music--for about 200 people. As The Baroness was the hostess, I was seated at a table of 8 with a seat open for her. She didn't sit, other than to introduce me, and then flitted off to make sure everything ran smoothly. That left me to explain that, yes, I was an American, and yes, I lived in Hawaii and ---etc etc. I soon found that I was not only unique in this crowd but a bit of a novelty. So I had a lot of explaining to do about "life in the States" and "tropics" living. (I was amazed to find that many of them had NO idea of where Hawaii was or anything about it!!)There were Artists and Architects and "designers" and ------others that I realized I should probably not ask "and what do YOU do?"---because I got the feeling they didn't "DO" anything....) The food was excellent and the wine superb and all and all it was a very pleasant evening.
I had been talking with a tall, dark haired gentleman who seemed interested in my explanations about Maui and how I had chosen it after living in Tahiti on and off for years. Someone had asked "Doesn't Marlon Brando own an island down their?" I explained that, yes, he did , and continued on with assorted other "island life" stories. The tall gentleman was about my size and with a very distinct face and with a VERY British accent. (meaning not Cockney---as I was used to with my buddy Jackie Lomax---nor "lilting" ---as I was used to with a friend from Cornwall) This mans accent was very proper. In the middle of one of these conversations about "life in Maui", he suddenly asked, "Did you know Randy California?" I quickly responded, "You mean Randy California from the band 'Spirit'?" He said "YES! You know of them? I'm a HUGE fan. Didn't Randy California die in Maui? He went for a swim and never came back? Did you hear about that?" Now-----I was also a fan of Spirit and knew of this story but it was NOT on Maui (it was Molokai) and he had gotten caught in a "riptide" and drowned saving his son. I also knew that there was an amazing connection between Jimi Hendrix and Randy California and that Randy was actually supposed to be a member of Hendrix's "Blue Flame" band and was also supposed to have joined the Experience but Chas Chandler, the original manager of The Experience had nixed the idea. SO---we talked rock and roll and British music and the connections between Spirit and assorted British bands.
"Can we all head outside for the fireworks, please?" was announced and then I heard "Let the American do it, let the American do it" and realized that I. as "The American", was designated as the official "fireworks" lighter! HOW this came about and HOW "The American" was, obviously, the BEST PERSON for the job, was beyond me. My new found friend, who introduced himself as, what sounded like, "Karen" (??---I let that go---) said he would help and we all moved out into the "Knot garden" and cemetery out back of the cathedral. The Baroness came up to me and, handing me the bag of fireworks said quietly, "Try to aim them out over the river. The "neighbor" enjoys them and was notified that we would be doing this but I DID want to prevent it getting to be TOO much for him." "Who is 'The Neighbor'?", I asked. "The Archbishop of Canterbury." she said, as she turned away. I stood there with my mouth open, a large bag of fireworks in my hand, in a cemetery in London, with 200 people all waiting for ME to start the celebration and "Please try not to blow up the Archbishop" rolling around in my head!!
My new found friend and fan of Spirit came over and said, "OK, so how can I help?" I said, "Well---I need some wine bottles and a candle or two from inside." He said, "Right." and headed off to fetch those for me. I backed up so that I could set the bottles on the raised platform of what looked like a monument and when he came back with the required "launch tubes", we fired away!
Everyone "oohed" and "ahhed" as we lit up the Thames with rocket after rocket. I had been told that there was an old legend of a ghost that haunted this cemetery if a certain ritual was performed, but I can guarantee that we certainly scared off any ghosts that may have been lurking THAT night. I "may" have aimed a few closer to over the wall of the Archbishops house than was recommended but felt that if he claimed he "enjoyed them" , then it would not be THAT much of a problem if one exploded on HIS grounds. All and all, everyone seemed to have a good time. My friend and I sat down on the steps of the monument we had used as the launch pad as everyone else wandered back inside. He spoke about his love of "that era" of music that Spirit was involved in and how it had influenced his life. I was impressed with his knowledge of, not only, Spirit but other bands from "the 60's."
As we got up to go back inside, he said, "OH! You DO know whose tomb we have been sitting on? I'd almost forgotten but your talking about living in Tahiti earlier had made me think to mention it....." Stepping back and pointing at it, he said, "May I introduce the famous Captain of the HS Bounty---William Bligh!"
So here I was---my head spinning from the whole question and answers of the evening about Hawaii and Tahiti and Spirit and Randy California AND after all of my time in Tahiti AND the connection those islands had to one of the most famous movies made about them "Mutiny on the Bounty" STARRING Marlon Brando----I had been sitting on the tomb of Captain Bligh himself!
I recalled that time and that story last night while trying to "re-watch" a mini-series on DVD. I had been given "Rome" by a friend---knowing my interest in history and Italy, etc. I had started to watch it years ago and never found the time to sit through a complete "episode." Last night, I didn't make it all the way through either. THAT was because I stopped it when I saw the actor who was playing Julius Caesar-----and recognized my Spirit fan/friend from all those years ago in London. NOT "Karen"-----"Ciaran" Hinds---the wonderful British actor of stage and screen.
And that----is just an example of how our own story weaves it's way through our lives and intertwines with others down through history.........
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