Famous Mitts!

My last blog post I told a story about a year round client. This post will take us back to my happy go lucky days in Northeast Harbor.

It was early evening in August and the front desk at the inn where I was working told me a guest was coming in later that evening and requested a massage to be done after he arrived. I really didn’t feel like staying late and asked his name. The front desk told me he was some sort of a musical person and they were unsure of his name because the reservation was in his wife’s name.

The front desk manager told me he had done a few musicals and he thought his first name was something like Martin. I asked him if he thought his first name was Marvin? He told me yes. Then I asked is it is Marvin Hamlisch? He went on to tell me he thought that is who it was but was not sure. I told him Marvin Hamlisch is a brilliant composer. He wrote the music for A Chorus Line, The Sting, The Way We Were………just to name a few.

I decided to hang around and Marvin checked in later that evening. I ended up massaging him. He was a riot! He was friendly, down to earth and pleasant. As I was massaging his hands I felt him tense up a bit. I made a joke saying something like “Hey Marvin are you concerned about me massaging these famous mitts?” He got a real boot out of that. I massaged him a few more times during his stay that August. He told me he would be back for a concert here in Maine in October and told me I should come.

Later that year in October I did just that. Myself, my daughter, her best friend and her best friends mom all went to the concert. While we were being seated I bumped into a friend of mine who was a writer for the Bangor Daily News. She told me after the concert Marvin would exit the stage and then come back out for an interview with her on stage. So if I stuck around I would have a chance to speak to him. The concert ended, Marvin exited the stage and shortly after that he re-appeared. There were about 30 of us still in the concert hall. Most of the people were women over 50, and then the four of us. After the interview the women stormed the stage screaming for autographs.

As Marvin scanned the crowd he noticed my daughter and her friend. He went right over to them and asked what they were doing there and told them he doesn’t see many young teens at his performances. My daughter yelled out “my mom massaged you last summer”. Marvin asked where I was, my daughter pointed to me and Marvin yelled over to me “remember I told you about the awesome blueberry pie I had last August?” “Well that lovely woman sent one over to me and it is in my dressing room waiting for me.” Then he signed my daughters and her friends play bills and then exited the stage!

Barter; For Better or Worse!

You may be getting bored with my summer stories so I thought I would throw in a funny story about this one massage I did on a regular year round client back in the day. This was probably circa 1998. I was a single mom at the time raising and supporting my daughter by myself with no financial help.

On the way to the supermarket one day I noticed a sign for pottery classes. As luck would have it the pottery teacher loved massage and agreed to do a trade. Massage for pottery classes. The pottery teacher’s name was Byron and he was a riot. I had taken pottery in high school and had become fairly proficient with the pottery wheel. I attended classes every Wednesday morning. I enjoyed re-learning the skills I had acquired in that high school art class many moons ago. On this one day I was at Byron’s fulfilling my end of the deal with a massage.

I set my table up as I always had in the open area between the kitchen and the dining area, except this time for whatever reason it seemed like a good idea to place my plastic oil bottle on the stoked wood stove. As soon as the bottle hit the stove I knew I had trouble. The bottom melted right off the bottle leaking oil all over the hot stove. Then the oil started to smoke. Unfortunately there was nothing that could be done. A stoked wood stove is way to hot to touch so we had to let the massage oil burn off. I felt and I believe I also looked like an idiot. Luckily Byron took it in stride and I went ahead and did the massage. Note to self………….stay away from the wood stove!