We’d like to thank Brad Freeman for sharing this story.
It must have been sometime in early January of 2008 that I traveled to Reykjavík, Iceland for an international Judo tournament. Being there for a competition rather than on holiday, I had the pleasure of seeing little else in Iceland outside the hotel and tournament arenas. I was in the best shape of my life, and at 5 feet 11 inches tall, I was competing at a very slender 145lbs.
One late night in the hotel, I found myself in a small sauna trying to shed water-weight for next morning’s weigh-ins. I must have been in the hot wooden room for a couple hours before a man entered wearing a towel about his head not unlike a turban. He took a seat in the hot box, and it took a few minutes before it registered that I knew this man. It felt as though I must have stared at him for a bit before timidly asking, “You’re Bill Murray, right?” He took a moment and then responded in typical Murray fashion with a “Yeah… that seems about right.” Continue reading
Last night, I was fortunate enough to attend an advance screening of The Grand Budapest Hotel, Wes Anderson’s latest. The film stars Ralph Fiennes and, true to form, has an extensive cast that includes regulars Edward Norton, Tilda Swinton, Adrien Brody, and, of course, Bill Murray.
I’m not a critic or what have you, so I’ll keep this short and sweet – the movie is excellent and you should see it. If you’ve seen it already, then there is a good chance that, like me, you want to see it again.
We’d like to thank Mike Rundle for sharing this story.
Almost 10 years ago while staying at an Embassy Suites north of Chicago for a one-night stay, our kids wanted to use the fitness room. A short time later they came back excitedly saying that Bill Murray was in there. At first we didn’t believe them, but they kept insisting so I told them to go back and just be yourselves; not staring, etc.
After about 15 to 20 minutes they came back and told us they were able to talk with him and he was really nice. He told them they could approach/talk with him, but asked that they leave his son, who was there also, alone. Continue reading
We’d like to thank John for sharing the following story.
It was the Fall of 1996. As I was showing the ballroom of the Saint Paul Hotel to a group of five people for a future wedding, I heard a voice call out, “John, John are you there?” Wearing a black baseball cap, Bill Murray walked into the promenade and, moments later, he and I stood face to face. Graciously he pardoned himself, and then asked, “Hey, John, could you help me with something?” The group I was escorting didn’t mind being interrupted by such a celebrity as Mr. Murray.
Standing in the doorway of the ballroom, he came up with one of the most bizarre requests I’d ever heard. The St. Paul Saints were in the Northern League Baseball playoffs and, as one of the principal owners, he was staying at the hotel to attend the team’s final game of the series. “John” he said, “can you get a hold of the phone number for Prince, I want to call him and give him tickets to the game tonight”. As a true concierge, I said, “I’ll do my best”. Continue reading