“I really need to get Tom Cruise out of my life,” I recently complained to a friend.
“He turns up in just about every conversation! I need to do a Tom Cruise cleanse, like a colonic irrigation. A flush. Completely get rid of him.”
But… how??
I could tell people I have a Tom Cruise allergy, and can’t tolerate anything, not even a trace, of Tom Cruise. I can try not to read or glance at any entertainment section of a newspaper or magazine, and avert my eyes when buying groceries.
I just feel the need to release myself from his ever-present influence, his upper canines, his life. I need to have years where I don’t hear about him.
Immediately after making this life-changing decision, the bomb drops. Mr. and Mrs. Scientology are splitting for good. Yes, I peeked in the grocery aisle, and find myself gleeful that Katie is escaping her Cruise-control. I hate to revel in the misfortune of others, but anyone who devotes a main chunk of their life to a religion made up by a science fiction writer, needs to have an anvil fall from the sky now and again. Sorry Tom. You probably never had a chance, being famous from an early age. And it is so easy for me to judge from afar!
I can also judge from a near-ish place.
May, 2000
We’ve just moved back to Vancouver, and my husband’s good friend is driving us around downtown, looking for a place to park. We find a spot, very near the Scientology building. I look at his buddy and raise an eyebrow. He gives a silent nod of confirmation. We are definitely dragging my husband in there.
We pass the doors and before he knows what hits him, we steer him inside and call over a guy to help us. My husband tries to turn and run but I am pinning him in place with my arm. He’s been abducted, and forced into the church of Scientology.
“So….” My friend starts slowly.
“We were wondering what Scientology is all about, what it can do for us.”
I struggle to wipe my smile off. My husband is shell shocked, and looks at the floor, shaking his head.
“Jerry” leads us into a back room, lined wall to wall L Ron Hubbard books. There is a T.V. screen and a VCR. We discuss L. Ron Hubbard. My friend points out that we actually SAW “Battelfield Earth” (a movie based on Scientology lore of aliens and such) and that it totally sucked.
“Heh heh heh, “ the guy laughs with us. “Yeah, it wasn’t that good,” he concurs, quickly moving on. He explains how Scientology can help us reach our goals, and how he used to only work at Red Robin, but now he is the manager there.
We pause to consider this.
Then he gives us a pamphlet, (which I still have) that reads:
Will You REACH YOUR GOALS?
A BETTER UNDERSTANDING OF YOURSELF HOLDS THE KEY TO-
-Discovering your own goals
-Improving relations with others
-Succeeding in life
Inside is a personality test, which concludes with:
WHEN LIFE IS A BATTLEGROUND… YOUR MIND IS YOUR BEST WEAPON.
And…I should buy Dianetics to find out how to “overcome the blocks to using my mind’s full potential”.
CAN YOU BE HAPPIER? It asks me.
Well sure, I think.
All I can really think about is that L. Ron is a freaking genius! He takes everyone’s fears and anxieties and tells them how to overcome it, using his guidance! One of these ways is to test yourself, using what’s known as anE-meter. Our guide shows us one, which looks like an eighth grade science experiment. You hold a naked tomato-soup can, which is hooked up to a voltage reader. We are asked in turn to hold it loosely, and then to think of something that causes us stress. Lo and behold, the arrow swings wildly for me and my husband. (This is called auditing.) Our friend, however, is practically a yogi. His arrow does not move.
“No really, “ our guide says. “Think of something that causes you STRESS!” He practically shouts, causing me immediate stress.
Our buddy stares at the can and says calmly, “I am.” And the screen stays still, the arrow waiting for its call.
This seems to confuse and somewhat anger Jerry, and we decide it is time to leave. I thank him, it has been informative. And it has, fascinating stuff actually. We figure out that you have to buy your way up the ladder to more and more levels of information, more ways to free your mind. And the best part? Scientology doesn’t say that if you are successful, you have to share. No, your wealth is your own, you earned it, so no need to spread it around, do anything altruistic!
That, my friends, is my real problem with Tom Cruise. I’m not mad he wasn’t my boyfriend after Top Gun. I’m not mad he made movies where he shouted the word C*@t. I even think he’s a good actor. But with all his influence, his mega bankroll, his superior smile, I can’t ever remember hearing that he did a damn bit of good for anyone other than himself or his family. He may have created the most beautiful little girl on the planet, but what good is that if he’s telling her bedtime stories about how she is actually an alien, trapped in a mortal human body?
No, I don’t know that he does this.
I don’t know anything about him, and I only know a tiny smear of Scientology. And that’s all I really need to know. Because sometimes you CAN ride off into the distance on your high horse, and live with yourself.
Katie, if you need a place to stay, we have a nice room in the basement. I promise not to bring up your ex-husband, ever again. I’m on a Tom-free diet, starting…now.