
Michael Merrill, the son of Bette Davis and an executor of her estate, established The Bette Davis Foundation to grant a scholarship to a student in the arts. In 1998, they gave the first Bette Davis Lifetime Achievement Award to Meryl Streep. The event took place at Boston University, and despite having lived nearby my entire life, I had trouble finding the address. As anyone who’s ever tried knows, parking near there is a bitch, and I was shaving it really close in terms of time.
I was out of breath, jogging down Commonwealth Avenue in a tuxedo, searching for the right building. Just as I reached it, a town car pulled up to the curb.
Out stepped Meryl Streep, along with her husband and an assistant or two. We were all in black-tie, walking briskly in the same direction, and she smiled at me.
I smiled back and said, “If you don’t mind, I’ll follow you. You seem to know where we’re going.”
We entered the library, and a stanchion and a security guard stood beside an antiquated elevator door—one of those fake pine-paneled things from the ‘70s.
When it arrived, we all piled in, and it turned out to be exceptionally claustrophobic and excruciatingly slow.
That’s when Meryl Streep told the joke.
I’m terrible at remembering jokes. Especially tasteful ones. All I know is that it had to do with someone famous going to heaven, and the punchline was: “But what I really want to do is direct.”
Despite the close quarters, everyone cracked up, and we were still laughing when the elevator doors opened and disgorged us into a party full of important people waiting to meet Meryl Streep.
Somewhere, I have a photo that I took of her from later on that night, and I wish I remembered more. But one thing I’m sure about: Besides her acting genius, Meryl Streep is funny as hell and knows how to alleviate the awkwardness of riding in a slow, tiny elevator with a stranger who’s totally in awe of her.