SURREAL BOUNCE: 5) JONATHAN WINTERS
In Search of Creativity & Madness
Summer 2001
Ahead of me, late morning, Jonathan Winters waddles down Coast Village Road—his out-and-about time.
Atop his square head, the venerable comedian sports a wide-brim cowhide hat. A fisherman’s vest—with Royal Flying Corps insignia wings sewn on the chest—girdles his hefty paunch.
“Mister Winters?”
He stops and squints at me.
“I just moved here from your nation’s capital,” I say. “A good friend of mine there used to run the CIA. The only ambition he has left is to have lunch with you one day.”
Every word of this is absolutely true.
Winters narrows his eyes into mine. “CIA, you say? Hmmm—they’re scary people.”
I shake my head. “The comedians around here are scarier.” I un-clip my cell phone and connect to Clair George, the former spymaster. “Hold on,” I tell him before handing the phone to Winters. “Here he is—say hi.”
The comedian accepts the phone, holds it to his ear. “So you used to run the CIA?” asks Winters. “Oh, it was your twin brother? Yep, I had one of those too. I don’t know if he was drunk or stupid, probably both. Huh? No, the only thing I have against gays is parades. You’re in Washington, huh?”
It goes on like this for three or four minutes, the two of them yakking away like old friends, with Winters looking at me, winking, like, ain’t I good at improv? Finally he disconnects and hands me back my phone.
“So,” I say, “lunch when my friend comes to town?”
He points at me. “You’re on!” And recites his telephone number.
Further down the street, I reconnect to Clair in DC. “Enjoy that?”
“Yeah. Who was that guy?”
“What do you mean who was that guy? That was Jonathan Winters!”
“WHAT?!”
“He’s ready to have lunch with you. If I bump into John Cleese, we’ll make it a foursome.”
“That was Jonathan Winters?”
“Of course—who’d you think?”
“I don’t know. He was very funny. I thought it was some old CIA guy you dug up. Jonathan Winters? How’d you meet him?”
“On the street.”
“On the street?” For a guy who once ran the CIA, Clair is not with it this day, probably because Washington is hotter than a size extra-small girdle on the circus fat lady.
“Yeah, he was walking down the street. I introduced myself, called you, handed him the phone.”
“I can’t believe it,” says Clair. “I just talked to Jonathan Winters on the phone? You just made my day. No, my year!”
“Was he funny?”
“Funny? He was hilarious!”
“What else is happening in DC?”
“It’s one of those days when you draw all the curtains, turn out the lights and run air conditioning to the max. How about there?”
“Sunny, 73, an ocean breeze.”
“Are you ashamed of yourself yet?”
“Working on it.”
I can believe that story. A close friend Richard and his wife ran a Polo store on Coast Village.
Mr. Winters would be taking a walk numerous times and would stop in and say hello. Richard passed too many years ago but it was fun to drop by and chat with him and hear him recount the last time he had walked in and "chewed the fat" with them.
Good recount.
You are an absolutely amazing Guy, Robert, I can just visualize that scene happening, and it was terriffic!! thanks for sending This is a very interesting and unique part of the world , for sure !!
ATB,
AKJ in WA