I'm Terribly Vexed

Russell, Russell, where did we go wrong?

CNN.com is reporting today that Hollywood actor Russell Crowe has been arraigned on assault charges stemming from an incident at a New York City hotel late last night. As the story reports, Crowe was brought into custody after throwing a hotel telephone and striking the concierge in the face. He doesn’t deny the account, and will be fully compliant when it comes to the legal proceedings later this year. As a read yet another story that IMDB news will be sure to blow out of proportion tomorrow morning, I have the following four quick-hit thoughts.

1. A Note to all Concierges of the world. If an irate hotel guest picks up a lobby telephone and throws it directly at your head, MOVE. This will avoid you getting clocked with a airborne receiver, and it will also prevent Chris Condon from making fun of you on You’re a Blog, the Internet’s next big thing.
   
2. Furthermore, Russell Crowe is not to be messed with. Let him make any phone call he likes. He’s a GLADIATOR. Rule #1 of Hotel Industry Ettiquette: Don’t tick off a Gladiator. Just wow.
   
3. On behalf of Russell Crowe, I would like to personally apologize for any misunderstood feelings that the telecommunications and hospitality industries may endure in the fallout from this altercation. I assure you Mr. Crowe has used hotels and phones on many an occasion where a fracas has not broken out. This was a one-time event, and neither industry should be the bearers of ill will. Although, if Vonage was a smart little start-up telecom, they would use him for the “unpredictable” advertising campaigns.
   
4. I must say I find RC’s behavior a tad bit surprising. I thought my influence on his life had held greater impact, but it turns out my powers were limited to only one life-changing event. Had I known, maybe I would have tried harder. Wait a minute – what’s going on? What are those wavy lines?

Uh Oh. Flashback.

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You see, I have long held a guiding power over the biggest thing to come out of Mystery, Alaska. For once, in a chance encounter, the mighty Condon spoke, and his will was done. And for this act of foresight and awe, RC owes me. Big time.

In the spring of 2001, while on my epic quest to turn hockey-watching into an educational experience, I found myself in Nashville, Tennessee. Being in the Music City (sorry, Detroit) for two nights with no plans allowed me to shoot from the social planning hip. On the first night I grabbed an extra ticket to see Sister Hazel and Vertical Horizon in the original site of the Opry, Ryman Auditorium. Pleased with my music-going experience, (as well as the Preds’ dismantling of the NY Rangers that afternoon), I decided to catch a little bit of country while still in the city. Picking the first name I had heard of out of the city event guide, I saw a twinbill of emerging country acts Rascal Flatts and Jamie O’Neal.

But it was the unannounced act that got my attention.

I would read later in the paper that Oscar nominee Russell Crowe attended that very same concert in order to catch up with Miss O’Neal. Both from the far side of the world, Crowe and O’Neal shared the stage once in a Sydney musical in the early nineties, and he chose this night to stop by and see her. He was in town to pick up a custom Harley he was having built, and had some free time in the evening. Which he spent doing two things: Johnny Cash cover songs and talking to Chris Condon.

After performing the former, he did the latter as different members of the audience (60 people, tops) approached his table to get autographs and the like. Lacking my trademark ear-pencil, I figured I could at least say hello and shake his hand. And that is what I did, ending our brief dialogue with a prophetic wish: “Good luck at the Oscars.”

And the rest is history, Maximus.