Beaumont...sweat 'til you die! Pt Duh

Okay, so it has rained constantly we have had more beer than we should have, Colonel Sanders has us in a death grip at every meal and the Beaumont salute was invented...One arm in the air as to indicate sweating into a toilet.  The idea of this trip was to "mentor" our fellow radio professionals at the Beaumont stations.  I was set up to be with the morning man and would be staying at his house.  What really transpired was the morning man was busy practicing to be Charley Pride's opening act and I would be "mentoring" his lonely and apparently under loved wife.  Needless to say, I was going to need to find other sleeping arrangements. 

But before we sleep, we needed to party.  "Dream Team" afternoon newsman Dean Curfman and I headed off to a local night spot and introduced more alcohol into our systems.  It was late by the time we finished doing that so we opted for a cab ride to the hotel that Jim Long, the radio stations' owner was residing.  We checked in as Jim's guest and added the room to his bill.   We had asked for the room that adjoined Jim's room which just happened to be available.  Being in a mood for some shenanigans, we made sure that Jim knew that a newly married, virgin couple was next door consummating their vows....all night long.  That headboard must have hit the wall a thousand time.  Luckily, Jim was a gentleman and didn't disturb our drunken escapades.  I did over hear him the next day telling Roger he didn't get any sleep the night before.  (chuckle)

So, after a breakfast of chicken and biscuits, we all were honorary security for the Charley Pride concert.  The morning man, Gary Lee opened and I remember Jim saying that "for a singer, he was a pretty good morning man."  That me be only the second time I remember Jim saying something funny.

Not a single one of us went to the bathroom during that weekend as we sweated most fluids out of our bodies.  The only thing the bathroom was used for was drinking related injuries. 

The bus ride back to Houston was somewhat quiet.  Luckily, Lisa Alan and I got a second wind and yoinked out the cassette (a little plastic thing with audio tape inside that plays music) of OOga Chaka music to lead our group through the terminal.  One lucky security guard ended up with Charley Pride backstage passes all over him. 

Even though I am unemployed, destitute, and sometimes suicidal, I still am able to live in the past and smile every now and then.  Those were the GREAT days of radio.

That is all...Peters out!