I was still 23, (January 10, 1979), when my career as a craps dealer started in Las Vegas. During my third shift, the toilet I worked in hired Eddie Murphy.
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| EDWARD REGAN "EDDIE" MURPHY WAS BORN IN BROOKLYN NY, ON APRIL 3rd 1961. HE ROSE TO PROMINENCE AS A STAND-UP COMEDIAN, THEN SUPER-STARDOM, AS A REGULAR ON SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE, (1980-1984). |
To clarify, I worked with a different Eddie Murphy. This Eddie Murphy (Edwin Murphy), was a pot-bellied redhead from Western Pennsylvania. He had a scar from a brawl above his left eye that permanently arched his eyebrow making him look consistently confused.
He once told me that when the coal mines began closing, the best chance of earning an honest living was either as a cop, a clergyman or going into the service. Due to his complete disinterest as well as several drunk and disorderly arrests, becoming a police officer was never going to happen. He was certain there was no God so the church was out. And when Eddie got his draft notice during the Vietnam War, he was rejected due to heart problems. So after many years in odd-jobs, he came west to take a stab at casino work.
The dump we dealt in had the most toxic environment to learn a trade. So Eddie and his confused facial expression lasted about three weeks. One day, he was a "No Call, No Show," and never came back. In the short time before he abandoned his job, we were on same craps crew about ten times. He was smart to leave. I lasted 90 shifts and frequently reflect on the experience by saying, "if I knew then what I know now, I would've quit before Eddie did."
The extreme awfulness displayed by the managers and low-level supervisors was aimed at the customers...and the break-in dealers, (everyone who had the misfortune to work there were newbies).
I never imagined seeing Eddie again. Oddly, ten years later here in New Jersey at the Shore Mall, we crossed paths.
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| "SEARSTOWN" OPENED IN 1968 AS AN OUTDOOR SHOPPING CENTER, (ANCHORED BY SEARS). FROM 1971-1974, IT WAS REFURBISHED AND ENCLOSED. IN 1976, ITS NAME WAS CHANGED TO THE SHORE MALL. IN 2009, THE PROPERTY WENT BANKRUPT WITH BOSCOV'S AND THE DEPARTMENT OF MOTOR VEHICLES AS THE SURVIVING TENANTS. |
Eddie and I sat on a bench and swapped war stories for a half hour. But this article is being billed as a mystery and so far there has been nothing enigmatic about it...till now!
I remembered most of his stories and he seemed to remember most of mine. Finally, he started telling me a familiar tale. Rather than say anything, I let him talk without interupting because not only did I know exactly what he was talking about but wanted to hear his entire version.
Eddie's account was spot on! I didn't tell him that I knew all about it and that I used to tell it a lot but stopped because it was so crazy. It was so far-fetched that I began doubting my memory. Far worse, my audience didn't believe a word of it.
Yes, the art of story telling includes exaggeration. I usually tell my readers that they should allow for a 15% embellishment factor. Bottom line, I'm not reporting the news, I'm trying to be entertaining. But the looks I got from telling this true story stirred my insecurities...and I didn't like the idea that friends thought I was a liar.
Let's fast-forward to earlier this week. Please bear in mind that the only reason I'm sharing this, is because I sort of have a witness, otherwise, you might think I was telling a tall tale now..
When I lived in Brooklyn there was so little wildlife (not counting insects) that if someone said, "Oh no. A dead bird." The other person would look up and say, "Where?"
Since then, Las Vegas (1979-1984) and suburban New Jersey (1984-present) I have been exposed to tons of adventures (and misadventures) with the animal kingdom. But never have I ever been so intrigued until a week ago.
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| HERE IN JERSEY I'VE SEEN A DEAD BABY SHARK ON THE GROUND IN A PARKING LOT. A SWARM OF LOCUSTS CROSSING THE LIVING ROOM, IN MY LAS VEGAS CONDO, BATS DIVE BOMBING MY FAMILY'S HEADS AT HE GRAND CANYON AND NOTHING BEATS THE THRILL OF A COUPLE OF TURKEY BUZZARDS GOING TO TOWN ON A DEER CARCASS. |
My latest escapade happened at dawn. I brought my recycling out to the curb and on my way back, a downed tree limb caught my attention. But beyond it, near the gate to the backyard, I squinted in the semi-darkness at what I thought was a squirrel standing on its back feet. Suddenly, Rocky took flight. It was not a squirrel, it was a bird, (a foot tall or better). Actually, it was two birds. At first, I thought it was a momma hawk teaching its baby to fly. It just couldn't be because the little one's flight was perfectly synchronized with its mom.
It was all over two seconds. I scratched my head and inched closer to where they blasted off from. YUCK! There were a gazillion feathers clustered there. I'm so naive to the notion of the circle of life and the whole reality of survival of the fittest but that's what I just saw. The poor kid was in the bird's talons and was wisked away to become a meal. Not much of a consolation, but judging from the plummage strewn everywhere. at least the tyke put up a heroic fight.
Later, I told my wife Sue. She listened but my explanation wasn't very rousing to her.
A few days went by. We were returning from taking Daisy (our dog) for a walk. I said, "Sue, wanna see the clump feathers that I was telling you about?" She said, "Not really. But let me bring the dog in first. " A minute later we went back out for my first visit to the battleground in full daylight. So we were simultaneously shocked. Attached to winter's dead grass, the feathers were still there. But seemingly stuck in the ground like a commemorative statue was the erect head of a tiny black bird with its long beak running parallel to the earth of killing zone.
We went inside and spoke about it. I told Sue I would attend to creepiness. Around ten minutes passed and I went back out with garden trowel and a cell phone to take a picture I couldn't believe my eyes...the little head was gone! It's damned near impossible. After being outside for days, the little bird's head had vanished. You snooze, you lose.
There is NO exaggeration here. My only witness never saw that the head was missing and I don't even have a photo. Still, it's 100% true. With no embellishment. Jeez, now I'm starting to feel insecure. I would to lose my own head. Maybe I shouldn't have told anyone I wish Eddie Murphy was here to back me up...
