Merv (31 page)

Ireland is a beautiful country and I love it dearly. If you don’t have a pet, I hope you’ll go and stay at St. Clerans. But while you’re there, ask the front desk for the number of the Irish Ministry for Agriculture and Food and let them know how you feel about their policy. I won’t charge you for the call.

Since 1987, I’ve bought and sold fourteen hotels. Throughout this period, the value of my hotel portfolio has increased significantly. But my joy has always come from taking a property and re-making it into something more attractive, more exciting and, yes, more lucrative.

For the time being, I’m down to three: the Beverly Hilton, St. Clerans, and the Scottsdale Hilton Resort and Villas in Arizona.

I love running the hotels and there are so many priceless moments that happen, most of which I can’t tell you about without violating my hotelier’s oath. (There really
isn’t
an oath, but if there were, it would probably be just one word: SHHHHH!)

There are a few stories that I can talk about. Here’s one:

You probably remember Heidi Fleiss, the famed Hollywood Madam. What you may not recall is the hotel that she was arrested in was the Beverly Hilton; we don’t include that happy fact in our brochures. When I got the call that she’d been arrested and led away by the vice squad, I couldn’t help but wonder, “Did she charge
extra
for the handcuffs?”

Then there’s the satisfaction that comes from being able to provide a home away from home for your friends. Wayne Gretzky, the legendary “Great One” of hockey, has become a good friend over the years, especially because I helped him to meet his wife, the beautiful Janet Jones. Janet was a dancer in the eighties when Wayne agreed to serve as a judge on my show,
Dance Fever
. I introduced them and they’ve been together ever since. Not long ago, Wayne’s people called Shaun Robinson, the manager of the Scottsdale Hilton, and tried to reserve a few rooms for Wayne, Janet, and their children. We were overbooked, but he managed to find them their rooms. But in the time it took Shaun to get back to Wayne’s office, they’d already booked them elsewhere. Wayne’s assistant was grateful to Shaun for his efforts, but said that it would now be awkward to call the other hotel back and cancel. Apparently Wayne overheard the call and quickly interceded, saying, “We only stay at Merv’s hotel.” That’s loyalty.

A few months ago, I sold the Givenchy Hotel and Spa in Palm Springs, thus making it impossible for me to continue honoring one of the oddest requests I’ve ever had since getting into the hotel business.

You may remember that several years ago, Robert Downey, Jr., the highly talented and equally troubled young actor, was arrested at a Palm Springs hotel for possession of narcotics.

Want to take a guess whose hotel it was?

Anyway, Downey’s publicist called and asked me if I was angry. I said, “No, I just hope he’s getting the help he needs.” (As of this writing, I gather he’s been clean and sober for several years, which is terrific news.)

The funniest part about the whole thing was that we had people calling from all over the world wanting to stay in room 311, the bungalow where Downey was arrested. I’m not sure if they were hoping he’d left something behind (he didn’t) or if it was simply morbid fascination, but it didn’t let up for quite a while. Tourists even stopped outside just to get their pictures taken next to the hotel sign. I even thought about changing the numbers on another twenty rooms to “311.”

I’m really sorry if this ruins your vacation plans, but now that I’ve sold the Givenchy, I can’t get you into room 311 anymore. However, if you’re interested in the Heidi Fleiss suite at the Beverly Hilton, I’m sure we can work something out. Of course, that’s what
she
said too…

I don’t watch
Survivor
. I have no interest in it. If something requires cheating, lying, and cruelty to other people to stay on top, it’s nothing I want any part of. Where’s the joy in that? Merely surviving has never been my purpose in life.

There’s another word that makes more sense to me—it’s the word “thrive.” The dictionary defines “thrive” in three ways: “1) to grow vigorously: flourish; 2) to gain in wealth or possessions: prosper; 3) to progress toward or realize a goal.” That’s how I’ve always lived my life. Not just to survive, but to thrive. I don’t define my success by personal wealth. My measure of success is when I’m as happy in the rest of my life as I am in my professional life.

Nor does my happiness depend on living up to people’s various ideas of who the “real” Merv Griffin is. If it did, they would have had to commit me years ago. Since the day I first went on the air, people have asked, “What is Merv
really
like?” Just like they asked it about Jack Paar and Johnny Carson. Yes, there are other parts of my life and I understand why people are curious, especially because I never injected my personal opinions into my show. Neither did I reveal my religion or my politics. I believe there must be some division between what is public and what is private. If you don’t leave something for yourself, who are you?

I’ve been in the public eye for more than fifty years as Merv Griffin, not as somebody else’s creation. I’ve never pretended to be someone I wasn’t. If there were anything really important that people didn’t know about me by now, then I would have to be the world’s greatest actor. Forget Brando, forget Hoffman, forget De Niro—I would have to be the best.

When I look back, my whole life has been about challenging myself. I was quoted once as saying that “retirement is what you do after you’re dead.” For me, that’s really true.

I’ve always seemed to reinvent myself every couple of years. I surprised a lot of people when I sold
Wheel
and
Jeopardy
, even though it was for a big amount of money and it was the right decision financially. I surprised people when I sold Resorts, because I was so involved in all the aspects of marketing it. If somebody knocked on my door tomorrow and offered me a trophy price for the Beverly Hilton, I’d think about it seriously. As much as I love that hotel, I’m not attached to it. I’m attached to
people
, not things.

Larry Cohen has brought me projects where I could make a lot of money, and I’ve just looked at him and said, “I’m not going to have fun with that” or “That’s going to be too tough on my people,” so we’ve passed on them. I think that’s part of the reason why people stick with me for such a long time, because it goes beyond just making a profit.

My days now are just like they were when I was doing
The Merv Griffin Show
. When I hosted my show, I loved the wonderful variety of guests, music, and subject matter, as well as the ability to improvise a question or a song whenever I wanted. Today, it’s the same with all my businesses—variety and spontaneity. My life is still being ad-libbed.

When I’m at the Beverly Hilton, I stay in an apartment on one of the upper floors overlooking the corner of Wilshire and Santa Monica Boulevards, the busiest intersection in the world.

My “commute” to work begins with Marguerita, my housekeeper who’s been with me for more than a dozen years, bringing me my coffee and newspapers. Then I read the daily schedule that my infallible (and unflappable) assistant, Michael Hathaway, had faxed up to me the night before.

Promptly at 10:00
A.M
., Ronnie Ward, who’s now vice president of the Griffin Group, arrives at my door and we review what’s on tap for the day. Then, Ronnie, Charlie, and I take the elevator down to my office, one floor below the lobby. By the way, the Beverly Hilton is now the most renowned and successful hotel in Southern California, not to mention the largest employer and taxpayer in Beverly Hills.

The morning hours are spent on the phone to my New York office, talking to Gloria Redlich, who has now been an integral part of my professional and personal life for forty-two years, or to my CEO, Larry Cohen, unless he’s with me in Los Angeles. (It’s often hard to keep up with Larry’s whereabouts, since he travels so often. Because of his peripatetic movements, Princess Elizabeth dubbed him “Coast to Coast Cohen,” a name he’s deservedly proud of.)

After lunch, I’ll often meet with the key members of my film and television production team: Ernie Chambers and Jim Bradley. Jim has worked with me in virtually every capacity since he started out writing cue cards on my show in the late sixties. He is more than a valued colleague; he’s a trusted friend whom I’ve relied on gratefully for more than thirty years.

As of this moment, four of our top projects are in various stages of pre- or post-production:
Shade
, a feature film starring Gabriel Byrne, Melanie Griffith, and Sylvester Stallone that will be released in 2003;
Barnes
, a feature film based on a short story by James Michener that he personally gave me permission to produce shortly before his death; a remake of
Hello, Dolly!
for television; and a fabulous big screen story based on the life of George Hamilton’s mother, Anne, a glamorous southern belle who was linked socially with Hollywood legends like Clark Gable and Humphrey Bogart.

Later in the day, I’ll sit down with my nephew, Michael Eyre, and talk about what’s on the calendar for Merv Griffin Productions, my event management company. Under Michael’s talented leadership, MGP has organized special events ranging from the Golden Globes parties to a film premiere on the deck of an aircraft carrier to the launch party for the Rolling Stones North American tour.

Before going back upstairs for the night, I’ll often get a call telling me that one of my racehorses, Thunderlad or Mon Ange (among more than twenty others), had a great workout that day.

There’s always so much going on and I enjoy it all. But I’m always reminded of that brilliant John Lennon line, “Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.” My life today is full of lots of plans, yet dependent on none.

My real pride (and joy) comes from seeing Tony’s success as a filmmaker; his short film
Squint
, which he wrote, produced, directed, and starred in (shades of Orson Welles), just won first prize at the prestigious Malibu Film Festival. You remember that Oscar I never won? I may yet get to hold one, but I think it will be Tony’s. And I’ll be the guy sitting in the audience bawling his eyes out.

My other moments of pure pleasure come from watching my beloved grandchildren, Farah and Donovan, discover the world, either in our travels together, or right in their own backyard.

Let me preface this final observation by saying that I feel great and that I plan on being around for quite a while. But I’ve never been afraid of death. If you live your life in fear of dying, you might as well be dead already.

So lately, in idle moments, I’ve been toying with what I’d like my headstone to read. (You don’t think I’m going to let anybody
else
write my last line, do you?)

There’s always the hypochondriac’s epitaph: “I
told
you I was sick.” Or perhaps the talk show host’s final exit line would be more appropriate: “I will
not
be right back after this message.”

Hey, you know what? I’ve just figured out what I want it to say:

“Stay tuned.”