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See this phrase translated! |
COURT JESTER?
Coffee, or Morning Thunder TEA?
 HE NEW AGE Deli became the TAO
restaurant, once the people of the Ashram had learned the vegetarian menu of the New Age Deli. I and one other cook from the New Age Deli were kept in the employ of the new management, in order to teach the people from the ashram who were working at their restaurant. This we can now
observe was a national trend in the early seventies, as some people who got
swept up in the exuberance of the late sixties made balance adjustments in their
lives. I must admit I was somewhat skeptical of Rudi, and I did have that negative
experience at Big Indian, in New York state to work my way through. I enjoyed
working at the New Age Deli, it was relaxed and not full of workers who couldn't
seem to communicate without raging streams of obscenity. I had seen the awesome
calm pervading the air in the kitchen at the yoga retreats Rudi hosted for
Muktananda and I try to be conscious of the "vibrations" going into the
preparation of food. Is it because food workers are often underpaid that kitchens
can be such madhouses? During
the years separating my return to Bloomington from Woodstock and the time
of this account there had been several "hippy" sock-hops in the large cafeteria
of one of IU's dormitories. After the festival, I had become "famous" in town and
met many musicians and knew how students would set up benefit concerts in that
very same dormitory cafeteria. So, when the ashram folks described that they had
agreed to assume the debts the founder of the New Age Deli had accumulated - in
order to purchase the business - I offered to arrange a benefit. The amount of the
debt was not large and could be realized by a good turn out. The people of the
town that frequented the Deli were artists, musicians and music lovers - a close
knit community. When these folk gathered for the "sock-hops" it had the flavor
of an old fashioned barn dance/revival tent meeting. I would enjoy producing the
extravaganza AND help my friends that had committed themselves to the yoga
discipline of a master they had chosen. Several bands responded, so I found a
campus group to be the student sponsor necessary. A date was chosen and publicity
generated.Then,
at work one day, I found out that Rudi was to visit his followers in
Bloomington. I still had trepidations - what would this portend? Next, a decision
was made to close the restaurant for a day, in order to use the space for a
meal and yoga session for all the members of the ashram. The house they had
purchased simply didn't have a large enough dining room. Initially I was upset
with the closing of the restaurant because many people came there every day...yet
I did resign myself to the arrangement. The day the store would be closed was the
day I had to call an office at the dormitory - to confirm the use of the cafeteria
for the benefit dance. Much to my chagrin, I discovered I hadn't copied the phone
number for that office the day before. So I went to the restaurant - the number
was written on a memo pad near the cashier's counter.When I
got to the restaurant, I saw Rudi and his disciples through the big
"picture" window in front of the building. They were seated at the long rough
hewn lumber table that ran the length of one side of the serving room. I flashed
on the Da Vinci painting of the last supper...funny what set and setting do with
one's perception. Wondering what might happen, I strode through the door. As
Rudi looked up, he got a smile on his face, and said, "Brother! Good to see
you!!"The
stern
disciplinarian was also a gracious host! He raised his arm in greeting,
so I walked over to shake his hand. Thoughts were racing through my head. Did he
know I was the self-proclaimed "COURT JESTER TO THE EMPIRE OF THE
SPIRIT" as I had insisted the staff person write on her form at Big
Indian? Could I live up to such an audacious pronouncement? Would the "joke" be
on me? Rudi took my extended hand and closed his eyes and began to firmly squeeze
my hand in his. I felt a strong desire to sit at the table and join the others.
Yet, I had seen him work with people at Big Indian and I felt I must stay focused
on the service I was providing his students. I needed to call that phone number!
That was the reason I had gone to the restaurant, hoping I could get the job done
without disturbing the lesson at all. WRONG!! So, I squeezed back, and kept
increasing the pressure gently as he started to do that. Tremendous will that man
had!!! By the time I was reaching the upper limit of the strongest hand-grip I'd
ever had to muster, his hand relaxed in mine. He remained still for a moment, then
let go and turned back to his students, silently. AS I recall, none of his
students appeared to even bat an eyelash in the few moments that passed as the
holding of hands occurred. I walked to the phone, confirmed the benefit date, and
quietly left the building. The show was a success in every way, and the debt of
the old business was retired. I never did get to talk to Rudi about the two
personal encounters I had with him. He's gone now, more than 25 years gone. May he
be BLESS-ED of Memory. Namasté. |
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This entreé Updated November 29, 1999 - Astral Tempus
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