SHACK 177 THE COMEDIAN

www.maxmiller.org

My late father knew a famous comedian named Max Miller.  Max was an extraordinary character.  He was flamboyant and risqué.  

In the interval Max would go into the bar and Dad went in as well with a crowd of ‘in’ admirers I was outside and Max would say to Dad ' Maurice who’s the boy who’s the boy? (Max often repeated things twice) My dad would say that's my son Geoff.  Max would say 'Give the boy a sherbet (Sherbet is a fizzy powder sweet, usually eaten by dipping a lollipop or liquorice, or licking it on a finger) they could make it into a drink by adding water.  Dad knew I detested sherbet and came to me with the drink and said 'tip it into the flower plant bucket and don't let him see you do it' I did this and Max saw my glass empty and ordered another one for me.

Max had several reputations of being mean or being awkward, I did not know if either were true and also tales of being mean and unkind to his wife, friends and chauffeur.  He was fondly nicknamed ‘The Cheeky Chappy'

He enjoyed notoriety and fame and had a lot of money.

Many years later Gill and I were walking down the promenade in Brighton a seaside town near London when I saw a stumbling downtrodden looking man shuffling along, I recognized it was Max. I went up to him and said ‘Hello Uncle Max’ he looked startled. 'I‘m Geoff, Maurice Freed’s son’ He replied ‘I don’t remember', he sobbed and said ‘ You Know no one wants to know the cheeky chappy anymore’ I put my arm around his shoulders and said ‘well I remember you’ With that he shuffled off and just ambled to a seat and gazed with a sad look at the sea, maybe at times gone past. 

Gill and I went into a café and had some tea and we reflected on having a persona and fame, indeed anything that one uses as a mask to which one really is. When the fame as so many celebrities be they TV, cinema, sport or political fall out of fashion, indeed some retired folk, the mask falls away and a black hole and depression can ensue

. I knew a Chief Superintendent in the Police who came for counseling and he was just retired.  He said at midnight he was a plain Mr so and so and that ID card had all the power in it and his identity, now it was gone, a very good pension, a happy family and yet he had no hobbies, and felt that was another ‘activity’ and was not the real basic him. He took up meditation and found that quiet ‘beingness’ a feeling of being empty and yet full of inner joy and solitude.  He said ‘he had nothing to live up to or defend and this was really something, and this is who I am, I cannot define it but I can live happily with it.

SHACK