A World Without Grandpa

Sunday morning I was reading through the news on the web and I tripped over the story of Grandpa Munster dying. One website fondly recalled Al Lewis walking amongst the tables of his Village restaurant making the rounds and talking to guests.

That isn't how I recalled him.

Since I'm a huge movie buff, people always assume I'm the type of person who would seek out actors and stars. Thanks, but I really have no desire to meet anyone famous. It's always a let down. Let me have my image in my head. Otherwise, you meet them and discover they are vain and arrogant or just down right stupid. I like their work and their creations, thank you. Please don't give me the reality.

Take for instance dear, lovable Grandpa Munster. Sometime in the early 90's I went to visit my friend in New York City. We were walking through the Village, heading to meet some friends when we spotted Al Lewis standing outside, on the stoop of his restaurant, underneath the sign proclaiming "Grandpa's." My friend, who truly does love to meet the stars, ran towards him like an eager puppy and asked, "Grandpa, can I take a picture with you?"

And dear, sweet and humorous Mr. Lewis barked, "I ain't no f*#@ing tourist attraction!" and turns around and marches into his restaurant.

Prior to this I actually had a moment when I almost asked my friend if we could eat there. Now we both stood in the street with our mouths wide open and the doe in the headlights look. My friend quickly reverted to fighting mode. "If you ain't no f*#@ing tourist attraction, why are you standing outside under a sign cashing in on your celebrity?!" I pulled him away as a couple of people stared on.

For the rest of the weekend, my friend made sure if we went anywhere, we passed in front of Grandpa's restaurant so my friend could yell obscenities at the old fart. Normally, I would have begged him to stop, but this really got me. Here was someone I loved as a child, who truly was cashing in on the character he created, and for no reason he shattered my illusions. I never watched the Munsters again. If I passed the show on tv I took the opportunity to tell anyone around me about how Grandpa was an ass.

So Sunday morning when I read he died, I'm sorry to say I felt no grief. But I did recall our escapade and smiled. Sometime in the afternoon my friend called me from L.A.

"Hey Honey," he purred, "I just called to give you the news. Grandpa is dead."

"Oh my God, I read the news and I've been thinking about you all day!"

"I know honey, just wanted to be sure you knew. Enjoy the world without Grandpa!"

And that's why one should never meet a star.