My brush with greatness

I've had maybe five.

Ok, so I promised a couple of people my Fassbinder story, and here it is.

In the early 80's, I spent a couple of weeks at a friend's ranch outside of San Francisco. On the weekends, D filled the place with people -- mostly other rich guys and foreign film directors. The rich guys wanted to direct, and the directors wanted to be rich, which made for an intoxicating cocktail, three parts mutual admiration, one part envy, with a splash of bitters.

On the second weekend, Rainer Fassbinder joined the party. I assume my friend flew him over; this is just a guess on my part, but I doubt at this point Fassbinder ever had to spring for anything. In certain circles, the brilliance of Berlin Alexanderplatz and The Marriage of Maria Braun could serve as a form of currency.

Fassbinder was 30 something, and looked 50 something. From what I observed, he considered cocaine a competitive sport. But mainly, Fassbinder was high on Fassbinder, an enthusiasm everyone at this particular gathering happened to share.

While no one would dream of disturbing the great man as he went about fulfilling his various appetites, clearly, the guests were fairly panting for the moment when he finished -- when he, they could all share ideas on art, and film, the creative process, philosophy, aesthetics.

Finally, Fassbinder spoke:

"I can hop on my right foot, fifty times without stopping," And started to prove it. "Can you hop with me?"

He was already at hop 10 or 15 when a sizable crowd joined him. After they reached 50, Fassbinder kept going and said, "I can hop to 500."

Many fell victim along the way. By 400, only three were still hopping. When they reached 500, Fassbinder said, "And now, I will hop 500 times on my left foot."

I watched the full thousand; I guess I must have been rather in love with my friend at the time.

Fassbinder died later that year.