June 17th, 1994

(I actually wrote this last year on this date, but didn't finish it... so I had to wait an entire year for this to be relevant again...)

I'm sitting and watching one of the most fascinating documentaries I've ever seen, and its something I didn't think about today until I saw it... "June 17th, 1994" is the name of show, part of ESPN's 30 for 30 series--that's 30 documentaries by 30 filmmakers celebrating the last 30 years of sports stories...

Anyway, this particular show is directed by Brett Miller, and it chronicles one of the most famous (infamous?) days in sports history, Friday, June 17, 1994... here's what happened on that one single day:

Arnold Palmer, one of the legends of golf, one of the pioneers of the game as we know it today (I don't follow golf, yet I know about Arnold Palmer) played his final round of major golf on June 17th, 1994.  Clips show him moving slowly, as he misses a three foot putt near the end of the round (he played on the senior tour until 2005, which he retired from pro golf altogether)

Ken Griffey Jr hit his 30th home run of the 1994 baseball season, a shot over the right field wall off of Kansas City's David Cone, tying the record for most home runs before the end of June set by Babe Ruth.  Griffey had potential to become one of the greatest of all time, before injuries slowed his career.  He retired last season as an almost surefire Hall-of-Famer.  The 1994 season ended in a baseball strike.

The New York Rangers had their Stanley Cup Parade on June 17th, 1994.  They had defeated the Vancouver Canucks (who, incidentally just lost to Boston in the only other finals they were in) in a seven game series to win their first Stanley Cup in their until-then 54 year history.  It remains their only one to date.

The World Cup's opening ceremonies were on June 17th, 1994, at Soldier Field in Chicago, IL.  It was the first, and to this day, only World Cup to be held in America.  Germany beat Bolivia 1-0 in the first game, but Brazil defeated Italy in the finals to become the first country to win four World Cups.

Tied 2-2, the Houston Rockets and New York Knicks had Game Five of their seven game final series on June 17th, 1994, and for anyone who is a fan of the NBA, it was a monumental series.  Patrick Ewing, in his first NBA finals, looking to get the Knicks their first trophy since 1973, while Hakeem Olajuwon was in his prime.  The Rockets won this series 4-3, and would go on to sweep Shaq's Orlando Magic the following season for back-to-back titles.

And... there's OJ Simpson.

On my previous 9/11 posts, I've mentioned that there are certain moments in time, in the world of entertainment, history and the like, that you'll always remember where you were.  I'm too young to remember JFK's assassination, or even Reagan's assassination attempt (the former being 12 years before my time, the latter happening when I was only 4 or 5), two "Where Were You When...?" moments in history, but I remember four major events...

• I was in Mrs. Wikel's class when the Challenger exploded in January 1986 (and I was driving back from my very first day at Starbucks when the Columbia exploded in 2003, though that's not talked about a lot)
• I was at the beach with Darlene Bledsoe, Eddie Hamner and Margaret Dorman when Princess Diana was killed.
• I was working at WBPT, 106.9 The Point, with Rob & Shannon, when we discovered the World Trade Center was on Fire
• And, finally, I was working as a waiter between the summers of my freshman and sophomore year in college at The Wright Place in Samson, AL, set to turn on Game 5 of the NBA finals to play in the background while the diners ate, when CNN Headline News (my news channel of choice being a young Democrat at that time), announced that NFL Hall of Famer, Heisman Trophy Winner and movie personality Orenthal James Simpson was in the back of a white Bronco, being driven by who is thought to be friend and teammate Al Cowlins, and is on the verge of suicide--a warrant had been issued for his arrest that morning for the murders of his wife Nicole Brown Simpson and her friend Ron Goldman. 

In this TMZ influenced, interweb crazy, know-anything-about-anyone-the-instant-it-happens Twitter kind of society that we live in, people who are say, 25 and under, don't get it.  They only know of OJ Simpson by what the interweb and Wiki tells them happened, but back on June 17th, 1994, when there was no interweb accessable, when there was no Facebook and Twitter to immediately let you know things as they occurred, what happened that evening with OJ was... surreal.  Unthinkable.  And like an overturned 18 wheeler burning on the side of the road, you couldn't not watch it, even though you know you had so many other things to do.  Let me tell ya, this was crazy stuff. 

Now, OJ Simpson is a punchline.  Everything from "Yeah, he's searching every golf course in this country for Nicole's killers!" to "I hope he knows how to do that Hertz airport thing in prison" is what you hear when OJ's name is brought up, but back then?  He was beloved.  No kidding.  Its kinda like the difference in Michael Jackson then (biggest pop star in the entire world) and now (freak of nature, not to mention dead). 

For today's culture, it would be like hearing the news that Kobe Bryant had committed rape and... wait, what?  Okay, um... it would be like hearing the news that Tom Brady had committed two homicides... golden boy, talented, loved and adored, and completely shocked that he'd do that.  (Had I written this post two years ago, on June 17th, 2009, "Tiger Woods" would have been the easy choice in that analogy, but now, not so much).  OJ played at USC, then was drafted by the Buffalo Bills, and later played for the San Francisco 49ers.  In addition to becoming the first player to ever run for 2,000 yards in a single season (finished with 2,003 in 1973) he did it in a 14 game season, as opposed to the 16 game season we have now.  OJ is also the only player to rush for over 200 yards in six different games in his career.  Because his nickname was "The Juice", the Bills offensive line was known as "The Electric Company".  They weren't very good, but that's a cool, cool nickname.  And in 1985, he was inducted to the Pro Football Hall of Fame... the same year he married his second wife, Nicole Brown (they divorced in 1992)

He started his entertainment career even before he was done with the NFL, starring in such movies as "The Towering Inferno" and "Capricorn One", and in the miniseries "Roots", he hosted Saturday Night Live once, he was in a memorable and legendary spot for Hertz Rent-a-Car, and of course, he was the one and only Nordberg in all three The Naked Gun films.   Bottom line is, this guy was awesome.  OJ was the man.

And then, June 17th, 1994 happened. 

A few days before Nicole Brown and her friend Ron Goldman were found guilty outside of Brown's condo, apparently stabbed to death.  Police suspected OJ Simpson, and gave him until 11am, Friday, June 17th, to turn himself in.  By 2pm, the police had issued at APB for OJ, and at 5pm, Robert Kardashian...

(remember the days when Kardashian was somewhat of a respectable name?  At least it meant "lawyer".  And yes, he is the biological father of Khloe, Kim and Kourtney, with ex-wife Kris Jenner.  Where was I?)

Oh yeah.. Kardashian read a rambling letter issue by OJ, which sounded like a suicide note to many people.  At 645pm, police spotted OJ's white Ford Bronco traveling down I-405, but when they tried to pull it over, the driver--Al Cowlings--yelled that OJ had a gun to his own head.   They backed off, but continue to follow at around 35 miles per hour.  And so began this slow chase across Southern California, one that was picked up by just about every network, and cut in on all programming.   So here I am, 18, going on 19, waiting tables at a small, podunk restaurant, and every eye in the cafe are glued to the television.

The white Bronco continues, and people began gathering along the side streets and bridges, waving, cheering and holding up signs.  There were phone calls made from the SUV claiming there were guns, claiming there were death threats, and OJ yelling that he didn't do it.  The Bronco stopped in front of his Brentwood, CA, home where we watched it sit there for 45 minutes, we watched OJ go inside for an hour (and apparently spoke to his mother and actually drank a glass of orange juice), then come out and surrender to police.  Inside the Bronco, the police recovered $8,000 cash, some clothes, a passport, some pictures.... and a loaded .357 magnum and a fake moustache and gotee.   Thus ended a news story and low-speed chase that was watched by NINETY FIVE MILLION PEOPLE.  That's almost the amount of people who came to the first DeuceFest!

If you don't remember the results, the trial captivated the country a few years later, mostly because it was a ridiculous circus type event that Judge Lance Ito lost control over within the first few days.  And then on October 3rd, around 10am, the verdict came... I remember this day vividly too, because I was hanging out in the BCM when Joey Hinson, who lived in the apartment downstairs with Tad Roose, came out and yelled to no one in particular, "Hey!  The OJ verdict is about to be announced!" 

Several of us ran downstairs to hear the verdict, and all of us groaned.  Not guilty.  He got away with it.  I won't go into it here, but there is a mountain of evidence that was never even presented in the trial for one reason or another (like the contents of the Bronco), plus a whole lot of goofs by both sides.  Some years later, he was sued by the Goldman family, and a verdict of guilty was returned, with a penalty of $33,500,000 against OJ, but California law prevents pensions, like the his from the NFL, to be used in judgements, so all the Goldmans got was about $500K from the sale of OJ's estate and belongings.

When doing the cover art, The Goldman Family
had the "IF" reduced, so "I DID IT" would be
the only words you'd see clearly

After a 2000 Rolling Stone article was released revealing how much money OJ was making from signing autographs, he moved from California to Florida--where the law prevents an estate from being taken to collect a debt... OJ gets away again.

He skirted another judgement in January 2007 when a restraining order was dismissed, one that would have prevented him from spending any advance money from a cancelled book deal... one that had its rights auctioned off later that year, and was then awarded to the Goldman Family... the book was called "If I Did It: Confessions of the Killer". 

After all the skirting and escaping he had done legally, you'd think OJ would buy a house on the beach somewhere and settle down, maybe just be quiet.  But OJ strikes again--in September of 2007, a group of men led by OJ stormed into a Vegas hotel room and robbed the occupants at gunpoint.  He was arrested, and after all the other defendants turned on OJ and confessed against him for reduced sentences, OJ was convicted in September of 2008.

And in a huge "MY BAD, DAWG... HERE'S THE MAKE UP" from the United States Justice System, OJ Simpson was sentenced to 33 years in prison, with the possibility of parole in 9 years (2015).  He's in the Locklove Correctional Center in Nevada... inmate #1027820.

And thus ends the long, strange saga of OJ Simpson.  I'm afraid that nowadays, there are people out there who probably think he was railroaded, and completely innocent, not because of their beliefs in the evidence and trial, but because... well, so much time has gone by, its becoming a faded memory.

But not for me.  I'll remember June 17th, 1994. 

The Summer of Blogging, Day Seventeen

Samson Blog Part IV: Memories in a BBQ Dive

Working at The Happiest Place in the Mall affords me the chance to sometimes see people I haven't seen in years. I have seen many of my college mates come through the doors, each looking for some magic, and a few from elsewhere (including a run in with Shay Oliver, to which I had to apologize for the visit). Tonight? Beth Edison came through the doors. Haven't seen her in about, I dunno, 17 years? She still looks the same, just a few years older.

We also had a prom group come through tonight, and that gave me a great idea for a post later... prom nights. Four proms, three dates, many stories. But that's later. For now, here's the end of my daylong visit to Samson, Alabama. This actually appears on pages 9 thru 12 of the original document I wrote it on, which is why I had to break it up into four parts. Its been a fun column to write, though. Anyway, here's the previous posts, then the finale....

Samson Blog Part I: "...Knee High to a Puddle Duck"
Samson Blog Part II: Tammy Ward & the Library Books
Samson Blog Part III: High School Highs... and Lows

PART IV... MEMORIES IN A BBQ DIVE

I had an original plan heading into this Monday to possibly talk to two people… Chris McCall, my high school best friend who I haven’t seen in a very, very long time, and The Clouds in My Coffee Official High School Crush Julie Wise, who asked me to let her know when I was in town. My thought was, “hey, maybe I can meet one for lunch, one for coffee, or both for dinner, or both for lunch!”, but a day or so before, I discovered Chris had the unfortunate event of being in Disney World at the same time I was in Samson. I had texted The Clouds in My Coffee Official High School Crush Julie Wise on my way down to Samson, but hadn’t heard from her at all, so I was already mentally making plans to maybe go down to the small community of Hacoda and see if another good high school buddy Greg Avant was around.

Lo and behold, The Official Clouds in My Coffee High School Crush Julie Wise texts me back, and after a few texts back and forth, we finally set up a time—5pm—to meet up at a local restaurant—Crew’s BBQ—in town. “Where is Crew’s?” I texted. “Its down on 87, where Gautney’s used to be, across the street from Stephanie Sheffield’s old house” was the reply. Stephanie Sheffield of the "dancing with Ryan Frary as he tried to move my hand to make me feel up Angiejay" fame, as mentioned in the previous post.

I vaguely remember when Gautney’s was open (its had several owners and names since then, including its current incarnation, Crews BBQ). They were the competitors to The Wright Place, and I remember Forrest and Charlotte didn’t like the people that owned it… apparently, the owners of Gautney’s made fun of myself and Victor Miller, the other waiter, saying they’d never hire “Puerto Ricans like that, they’d probably steal all the money.” Its Hispanic, you ignorant (expletive deleted).

After sitting with my mom for a while longer, I finally decided it was time to go on down to dinner, so at 10 til 5, I said goodbye, gave my hugs, and went outside. I reeked of smoke, but luckily, I had anticipated this, so I wheeled onto the little dirt road that runs behind the west block of downtown Samson, namely the area behind the hardware store, the old Wright Place location and so on. I pulled up, yanked off my shirt and threw on a sweatshirt. Then, at 5pm, I was sitting in Crew’s BBQ.

It wasn’t busy at the time, so I went and sat in a booth, and when the waitress came up, I asked for some sweet tea. As she was returning with said drink, I looked at her suspiciously… “Y’all do take debit cards… right?” She smirked and said, “No, the boss won’t get a card machine!” I sighed, mentally cursing the lack of technology in this town and racked my brain for a quick solution. An ATM, maybe?

Like she was reading my mind, the waitress said, “You can go to the ATM if you want.” I perked up, looking around, figuring I’d have to pay a service charge of like, $3 or something, and asked where it was. “Oh, just go down to the red light, take a left, and you’ll see the bank on the left side.” By saying “down to the red light”, she was essentially saying go back the two miles you came from town. Sigh. Again.

I texted The Clouds in My Coffee Official High School Crush Julie Wise and told her what happened, and that I had no money in my pocket. Her text was a big fat LOL. I told her if she’d pull up, she could ride with me down to the bank, and she responded simply, “Don’t worry about it, I got it.” I started to text her back, and in rolls this big Mommy-Mobile SUV wheeling through the parking lot. And out steps The Clouds in My Coffee Official High School Crush Julie Wise, the first time I’d actually seen her in 15 or 16 years. Big smile from her, big smile from me, I gave her a big hug and we sat down for a nice meal of Crews BBQ, even though I got popcorn shrimp and she got chicken fingers.

Now, let me be very clear about this… before any and all of you start imagining all the things that can go wrong here, and start asking yourself “Is this a good idea?” and such, this was a We-Are-Friends meal. This was clear from the get-go on both of our parts. As a matter of fact, talk of The Lovely Steph Leann was littered throughout our entire conversation, how we met, who she is, how we match up, and so on. I love The Lovely Steph Leann and made sure that my conversation reflected such. Plus, The Clouds in My Coffee Official High School Crush Julie Wise didn't dig me back then... why would she now?

You also have to remember, part of it was seeing my friend, but another small part? It would make for great blogging, to finally reconnect and report on someone who has become an oft-asked about character on the Clouds blog. And another small part? I’m still making book notes. Just making sure you know this.

The Clouds in My Coffee Official High School Crush Julie Wise and I sat and also discussed about a hundred other topics that evening, from the whereabouts of many of my classmates, the whereabouts of many of her classmates, why Chris McCall was so obsessed with Andrea Foreman, why Andrea Foreman was so obsessed with Stan McDuffie, the strange relationships of Ryan Frary, including Kelli White AND Stephanie Sheffield, Angiejay’s Facebook dis of me and the subsequent decision to make her a villain in my story I’m writing, Jennifer Herndon, how the town has changed (and thankfully, only briefly discussing the March tragedy which by this point I was tired of rehashing), what happened to her and the tool she was dating, her daughters Bayleigh and Brantley, my unborn children Campbell Isaiah and Lorelei Addison, and of course, the events before, leading up to, including and beyond the afternoon of The Note.

We laughed and had a great time, like friends do, and it was after I had already left town that I realized that in that 2 and a half hour span, we talked more than I think we had done collectively in 3 years around her in high school. The last real time I had spent with The Official Clouds in My Coffee High School Crush Julie Wise was hanging out at Beverly Day’s birthday party (1992?), which I think I was invited to only because I was in the band.

I also remember me and Chris McCall laughing as Beverly Day, Andrea Foreman, The Clouds in My Coffee Official High School Crush Julie Wise and I think Stephanie Sheffield stood on a couple of tables in the yard and sang “I Like the Way (the kissing game)” by Hi-Five. I have a weird memory about things, I think.

Back to dinner, it was around 7:30ish, when it was finally time to depart… she had kids to get into bed, she had to get to sleep herself, and I had to begin a long journey back to the world I know now.

Like I had done with other faces that I had talked to earlier, The Clouds in My Coffee Official High School Crush Julie Wise and I said our goodbyes, and agreed to stay in touch this time around, and hopefully when The Lovely Steph Leann comes with me, I can introduce the two women who meant a lot to me, albeit completely different stages of life.

At 7:30, I turned onto Highway 52, and headed out of Samson, toward Geneva, back from the direction I had already come. I had told Sandy Wright hours earlier that I would stop by her parent’s house and say hello, so when I came upon their county road, I turned right. It was paved, but only slightly… the Wright home is a house I’d been to many, many times as a teenager, both visiting and working. Sometimes I would just hang out with Cristie, other times I would help Forrest paint or clean or whatever, and he paid well. The restaurant closed some years after I started college, but the Wrights own a florist & gift shop in Geneva, and he does, or at least did at one point, sell fencing and siding.

So when I came to the Wright home, imagine my surprise when I couldn’t get in. They have a long white fence that wraps around the property, with a small driveway that I parked in. There was a gate. An immovable gate that I had no clue how to approach. Granted, I could have easily ducked between the wide spaces in the fencing, but the last time I was here, they had a couple of Dalmatians that were the size of Toni Rocky Honda, so I stood for a few minutes, staring at the house. Do I honk the horn? Do I duck under the fence and make a run for it, hoping the Spawn of Spotted Dog doesn’t chase me down and maul me? What do I do? It’s about 7:50 now, the light is fading, so who knows if they even recognize me?

Finally, I decided I would just leave a note. I grabbed a Sharpie, cause you know I lurves me some Sharpies and Toni Rocki Honda contains about 30, and scribbled down:

Forrest & Charlotte

Stopped by to see you both. Didn’t know how to enter the Wright Fortress. Hope you are well, hope to see you soon.

d$

I wheeled Toni Rocki Honda to their mailbox, opened it, put my note in, and left. There was one more stop to make, really, in my Samson excursion… Wal-Mart, though it was actually in Geneva. My purpose was singular… I wanted to walk the store front to back, side to side, and count the paces. Then I wanted to compare it with the Wal-Mart down the street from The Cabana on 280. Back to front, the Geneva Wal-Mart was 73 paces. Side to side, its 103. I’m not joking. And the Wal-Mart closes, which in a city that has about six of them within a fifteen mile radius that stay open 24-7, is unfathomable.

Finally, it was time to go. Through Geneva, back through Enterprise and up to Troy, where I made a quick stop at the FarmHouse Fraternity house to drop off a paddle that was given to me years and years ago by my big brother there… it was time the paddle found a home in the house. Met some of the guys, watched a few minutes of the NCAA championship game, shook some hands and then I was out.

My last stop before home was in Prattville at Steak-n-Shake… I wasn’t even that hungry, having eaten hours before with The Clouds in My Coffee Official High School Crush Julie Wise, but I got a small burger, fries and a milkshake… because its Steak-n-Shake, and I never get a chance to go there. Truly, I miss Denny’s, but I do love some SNS.

My day in Samson was wonderful, not made so by any particular part of it, but by the combination of well wishes, familiar faces and throwbacks to days when it was so simple. I think everyone thinks to themselves how they would do it if they could go back, knowing now what you know. I would think I’d be the coolest guy in school, because honestly I wouldn’t care. Lord knows I’d have better fashion sense, and I’d probably have a change of clothes in my locker to put on as soon as I got to school.

As simple as it seems, though, I am truly blessed to be sitting here in front of my laptop, sitting on a wooden TV tray, which is sitting on an expensive designer rug, sprawled out in front of our leather couches, in a living room directly under the bedroom where the most wonderful, beautiful woman I’ve ever known is sleeping peacefully. All of this is in The Cabana, our house we bought last year, sitting close to a major highway in our town, which means we’re close to everything, including both jobs that we possess and love.

I do have a new found love for my hometown of Samson, and one day, maybe in a few decades, maybe sooner, maybe never, I might go back. Maybe with The Lovely Steph Leann in 2020, maybe as a widower in 2061. And I do have a love for the people I left behind, be it The Clouds in My Coffee Official High School Crush Julie Wise, or Chris McCall or my other two Samson BFFs Tonya and Greg, and friends like Jason Howell (who I’m dying to spend some more time with) and Rona Mock and her husband Ryan (who I’m going to call for dinner in the next two weeks) and especially my mom, who will most certainly die in this town, probably in the next few years. I’ve already decided I’m going to make it a more frequent trip, perhaps once every two months, maybe once per month during football season…

..but in all my remembering where I come from, I’ll be careful not to forget where I am now. And where I am right now is the most blessed place I could be. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna click this laptop off and go upstairs and sleep next to The Lovely Steph Leann.

(one more authors note... when I finish and publish a post, which usually takes me forever, as The Lovely Steph Leann can attest, I read it on the actual website itself, usually to make sure it flows and posts correctly, is spaced correctly, et al. Tonight as I did this for Part IV, my website playlist played "When I Get Where I'm Going" by Brad Paisley and Dolly Parton. I thought it was kinda cool. Course, if this were 1993, "You Don't Bring Me Anything But Down" might've sufficed for my dinner guest. Ha!!)

Thanks for reading.

Samson Blog I: Knee High to a Puddle Duck

The following is an overindulgent walk down the Memory Lanes of Samson, Alabama, my hometown and where I'm from. What started out being a three page post ended up being an 11 page post that I've been forced to break up into 4 parts for better readability. Part of it was that you could read and learn more about your author, and perhaps identify things in your own life, in your own upbringing that were similiar, or were perhaps far off. Part of it was to just remember the day as it was... just about perfect. In weather. In time. In smiles. Overall. Not perfect. But close. Anyway, here's part one...

Part I... "...Since You Were Knee High to a Puddle Duck..."

"You have this obsession with the past, don’t you?” I was asked recently. Pondering this thought, I replied, “No. I just want to remember where I came from, I want to remember the parts of my life and the people in my life who made me who I am… plus, I want these memories fresh so that I can draw what I need from them as I write my book.”

It’s always a funny thing when I go home. Sometimes I expect to see everybody, and see no one. Other times I think I won’t see a soul that I knew from back in the day… and I see more than one or two familiar faces. Such was my trip last Monday.

I had a couple of days off from The Happiest Place in the Mall, and since I worked at The Most Caffeinated Place on 280, I thought I could make a day trip of it to my hometown of Samson. I hadn’t been back since Thanksgiving (direct all comments about what a bad son I am to me, with the subject heading “too busy”), and especially since the events on March 10th.

For those of you not familiar with the lay of the Alabama land, or unsure of where I was headed, I took I-65, after a quick stop at Whataburger for breakfast, down to Montgomery. Typically, you would get on I-85 headed to Atlanta for about 7 miles, get off on Taylor Road, cut across to Highway 231 and head to Troy. I actually got off of I-85 this time on Perry Hill Road, went over to Vaughn Road and up to Eastern Boulevard. The only difference really is this is an extra 10 minutes or so, and I went through a little of Montgomery, rather than avoiding most of it on the roads described above. From Eastern, I turned onto 231, and it gave me a glimpse of the Montgomery Mall. I used to work there in 95 and 96 at The Disney Store, but over the years I think the cost of complimentary Kevlar to customers was too expensive, so they shut the whole mall down. I heard it was pretty dangerous there for a time.

Troy is 45 minutes down the road from Montgomery, and I would turn right onto Highway 87. This time, though, I took a shortcut in Troy over to downtown, stopped by WTBF to say to my old program director, Doc Kirby, but he wasn’t there. I stopped by the house on Three Notch Street where Wookiee and I lived from June of 94 to May of 95, lamented melancholy about the fact the Crowe’s Chicken was now some cheap Chinese takeout.



This old house was actually broken into two or three apartments, owned by Mr. & Mrs. Ferguson. Wookiee and I lived in the back part, one huge bedroom, heated by gas heaters that you had to light (meaning high, high gas bills) and ten foot ceilings. And there was a trampoline in the back. I split my favorite pair of Duck Heads when Lisa Murphy, Kathy Hollingsworth and I were jumping on it, in 1994.

Stopped over at The BCM, stepped in, talked to our old campus minister Brad Bensinger, and then took a walk around the campus. I actually kept my eyes peeled for a few people that I knew at Troy, but alas, to no avail.

What’s amusing to me is how I’ve carried on about how much it has changed, and when you go into the Adams Center, this is totally apparent. The food court has gone from The Grill/Trojan Room to an open court area with an A&W Root Beer stand, a Chick Fila, a smoothie place and more. I just wanted to grab some freshman, shake them and say, “Do you realize what you have here? This is a gold mine, I tell ya!” See, when The Lovely Steph Leann and I paid off all debt last year, much of it was credit cards. If I had access to an A&W and a Chick Fila on campus, I can’t imagine how bad it would have been.



How does the food court look like this? There was a wall running right down the middle back in the day, separating two rooms!

Beyond that, the landscaping now added (with a fountain!) to the class building quad and a few touch ups to the athletic areas, really… not that much has changed. There is still the porch swing where Heather Howell and I sat and… you know, I can’t remember if I asked her out the first time there, or she broke up with me there. Good times? Bad? I don’t know. Anyway, the big hill is still the same.

Walk through the Barnes & Noble (!) and you get to the student offices, and the big open couch study area—it’s the same. Alumni Hall is pretty much the same, just with newer tile. I went in, and it smelled the same. Even went into the restroom to visit my favorite stall from back then—and it looks the same. Yeah, I know, they’ve redone it, but there is only so much you can do to a place like Alumni, short of leveling the place and rebuilding, a la Clements or Dill Hall. Clements is now what Cowart was back in 1997, and Dill is gone completely, replaced by Hawkins Hall. I stopped a sorority girl and asked her what Hawkins was, and she told me it was education. She then turned her nose up and walked off. Must have been a KD. (Oy!)

Did my tour, snapped some photos of old and new, then got back in the car, drove around to both Thomas Circle (the Wookiee/Dave dig for 95-96) and Willow Terrace (the Wookiee/Dave/Brunson crib for 96-98) then got back on 87 for the remainder of the trip. About 8 miles out of Troy, you come to a fork in the highway… well, you can go straight or veer a slight right, and the slight right will take you through the towns of Jack, Alabama (home of the Zion Chapel High School rebels, our band rivals for like, a year or two—and I really don’t know why), then through Elba, Alabama (where it flooded in 93—water was up to the clock tower, so if you ever go through there, you’ll see it) and then to Samson.

I, however, stayed on the straight and two-laned, headed to Enterprise, Alabama, if for no other purpose than I just wanted to. Took the highway (after all this time, I still can’t tell you the roads through Enterprise). Stopped at the Cannon Food Mart for gas—again, a nostalgic venture… I would wait tables at The Wright Place in Samson, then leave around 10pm, drive to Enterprise and get on the air at midnight until 9am. Elisabeth Bradshaw told me she used to sit up and listen to me. Made me blush. But I would always stop at the Cannon Food Mart, if not for gas then at least for snacks.

Took the country roads towards Samson, and came upon Five Points. Now, in Birmingham, Five Points is a thriving little community of clubs, bars, dives and such… Five Points in south Alabama is a junction where five county roads come together. One, the one I was coming from, leads to Enterprise. Take an immediate right and you’ll go off somewhere to a dead end. Take the other right and you’ll go through Sellersville and get to Samson. Take a left, you’re in Coffee Springs in three minutes. And go straight, which I did, and you’ll run slap into Highway 52. I got to Highway 52, took a left, and went towards Geneva. I stopped and saw my friend Jennifer for a few minutes, did some talking, left and was on the road to Samson.

As I drove, I began to think that I needed some good music for a drive through town… had to be something that I was listening to when I was in high school… Sheryl Crow? No. She didn’t pop up until college. Hootie? Same thing. Plumb? Geez, that was early 2000s… wait… what about… Janet Jackson. “Rhythm Nation 1814”. I put that CD right on in, and began to jam to “Miss You Much” and “Rhythm Nation” and as I hit Samson’s city limits, I heard the music of “Love Will Never Do (without you)”. It was awesome.



Samson, Alabama. This is the same picture that you saw in March, only this time I'm taking it, and this time there aren't cops and state troopers and police tape everywhere. This is just a typical Monday.

Drove into town, saw that there is now a Mexican restaurant in Samson, Alabama, and I laughed really, really loudly. Moved slowly, just soaking it all in. Didn’t know how the town had changed, wasn’t sure what would be different. The peanut mill still looks the same. Another feed store is going out business. Looks like another few store fronts are now empty. The old Piggly Wiggly that had become another grocery shop that at some point spent time as a tobacco shop is now nothing but an empty shell. Bill’s Dollar Store is nothing now. Choice Video has a new façade. And wouldn’t you know it, Merchant’s clothing is still there.



Choice Video... they are finally getting rid of VHS movies. They don't even rent them, they are just selling off their inventory of them. You know how places have a certain smell? Not a good smell, not a bad smell, just a certain scent? Choice has had that smell for 20 years.

I pulled up in front of Sandy’s Beauty Shop on Main Street, stopped and hopped out, hoping that Sandy would be inside. The Sandy I speak of is Sandy Wright, middle daughter of Forrest and Charlotte Wright, owners of The Wright Place restaurant that I waited tables at for something like 7 years. The oldest, Jennifer, was who I visited earlier in the day. The youngest, Cristie, was who I was supposed to marry, at least according to half the customers who came into the restaurant. Sandy? Well, let’s put it this way…

What The Angel is to Troy, Sandy Wright is to Samson. Just a vision, especially when you are in 9th or 10th grade and she’s graduating high school. But, alas, no one was there. I looked in, the store was empty, and so I just looked around the town. Glanced over at The Big/Little Store, which looks like nothing every happened. The bank looked busy as well, and traffic was actually a little busy through town—for Samson, anyway. Walked across the street, took some photos, and was walking toward the western side of town (mind you, downtown consists of two blocks long) when a car drove past me, slammed on brakes, backed up and swerved into a parking spot directly in front of me. I waved, not knowing who I was waving to, and it was in fact, Sandy Wright.


The old Wright Place restaurant I used to wait tables in. I was awesome. I could do the whole four-plates-on-one-arm thing, with three glasses of sweet tea in the other hand.

Her last name is no longer “Wright”, and she has a beautiful daughter now, but her accent and friendly demeanor hasn’t changed at all. We chatted for a minute, I told her I had been to see her sister, and Sandy asked me if I was planning on going to see Forrest & Charlotte. I told her I hadn’t actually seen my own mom yet, but I would try to make it out that way. Sandy left, on her way to Dothan for her daughter’s doctor appointment. I walked around a little more, then decided to slip into Choice Video for a minute.

Ms. Holland was behind the counter, and looked at me strange when I walked in. “Can I help you?” she asked, and I told her I was just looking around. Choice Video opened up across the street back in the 80s, and I remember getting my first ever video membership there, and my first video was “Coming to America”. Funny movie. I toured the store a few minutes, and again, she asked me, a little more suspiciously, “Can I help you find something?” I smiled and replied, “I used to rent here when I was a kid, a way long time ago.”

She tilted her head, paused and said, “What is your name?” I told her, “I’m d$.” Another pause as this sunk in, her face brightened and said, “Oh my gosh, d$... wow…” Now that the comprehension was complete, she said, “Well, you used to rent from me when you were knee high to a puddle duck!” Only in Samson, Alabama, really. We started chatting about the old days, the town, and of course, the tragedy of a month earlier. “It was a terrible day, d$. It was a terrible, terrible day,” Ms. Holland sighed. I asked her to give my best wishes to Wesley and Brandy, friends of mine from the old days, and left the shop.

Finally, it was time to head to my parents house, the house I grew up in. So I did.

Next... Part II: Tammy Ward & the Library Books

The Story, aka, Woulda Shoulda Coulda

All of these lines across my face... tell you the story of who I am... so many stories of where I've been... and how I got to where I am

At heart, I'm a nostalgic person. Seriously. I hold on to things I should've let go a long time past, if for no other reason than that something might have a story I can tell. This is much to the dismay of The Lovely Steph Leann, mind you.

Probably the focal point of this entire argument is the famed Ren & Stimpy Toilet Paper. For you young folk out there, Ren & Stimpy was a cartoon that would come on Nickelodeon on Saturday nights. My high school Saturdays were spent working at The Wright Place restaurant, waiting tables in Samson, Alabama, pining for Julie Wise, The Official Clouds in My Coffee High School Crush, though really preparing to end up marrying Cristie Wright. Not that I was planning that, but that's what I was supposed to do, according to everyone in the cafe, anyway.

Ren & Stimpy would come on, I would make sure to plan my 20 minute meal break around that time, and watch it on the cafe television. And laugh, really, really hard. I mean, how can you not laugh at a fake commercial for a game called "Don't Whiz on the Electric Fence"? Classic.

This love for Ren & Stimpy carried through my freshman year in college, where I became fast friends with Mandy Stewart, Miranda Bryant, Bobby Black, Bradley Grantham and a host of others who somehow impacted my life either in small or large ways.

It was the Christmas of 1993 that Mandy Stewart gave me a roll of Ren & Stimpy Toilet Paper as a gift. It was wonderful. It was hilarious, and I loved my friend Mandy--weirdly enough, she was probably one of the top ten most beautiful girls I'd ever met, yet I never had a thing for her. Personally, I was a Spring Tolson fan myself, but she was unreachable.

Where was I?

But these stories don't mean anything... when you've got no one to tell them to... it's true... I was made for you

Anyway, I haven't talked to Mandy in about... six years? Seven, maybe? Yet, I still have that toilet paper. I mean, you don't want to use it--I'm not sure of the life of the quality in a roll of TP, but I'm sure 15 years is more than can be expected. Why do I still have it? Perhaps I've had it for so long now, its crossed the "But I've Had This for -- Years" threshold... when you have something for soooo long, its just hard to get rid of. I should.

The only sentimental value of it is just a memory of a good friendship that I had for a season of a few years, a friendship that actually had begun to fade away before we even lost contact--you know how that is, you become close to someone, and over time you slowly but surely drift in different directions.

My friendships, solid for a time, with Allyson Guy, Eddie Hamner and Melanie Dill were just like that. Solid for a season, some years, some months and then *poof*. They go from being people you trust will give their life for you--and maybe they still would, who knows--to people that aren't anywhere on your list to call if you had a flat. Not to say they wouldn't help, again who knows, but they wouldn't be on my list.

I climbed across the mountain tops... swam all across the ocean blue... I crossed all the lines and I broke all the rules... but baby I broke them all for you...

My whole point is nostalgia. I have a number of items that I haven't rid myself of, perhaps because the only thing they do hold is the opportunity to tell a story. The t-shirt I have that says "I Love NY" on it, signed by the members of the 2002 Mission Trip team from Shades Mountain, including the aforementioned Melanie, is in a box. I talk to the team slim to none, though I've made several Facebook connections, yet the t-shirt affords the chance to tell the story of the puppet show in the park, or how the term "Some Detours Are Worth It" became the mantra for the trip.

What's funny is that, even as I heralded all the memories the t-shirt held, I sat for a second, frozen, thinking of something. Finally, the mantra came out. Perhaps its time for the t-shirt to go.

I have a bad habit of woulda shoulda coulda thinking. Seriously, I need to stop. I have always said there were two things I would go back and do if I could zip back to 1988... the first is invent Build-a-Bear.

Think of this... a store that sells teddy bears, but YOU have to come in and make your own, doing the work, then you pay me for it. That's brilliant.

The other is I'd write Harry Potter. At this point, probably from memory. Oh, don't worry, I would anonymously send JK Rowling a check for a few million, making sure she was okay with life. And I would NEVER, EVER make Dumbledore gay. There's no sense in that. In fact, its just stupid. But I digress.

Oh because even when I was flat broke... you made me feel like a million bucks... you do and I was made for you

But in my woulda shoulda coulda... what if I had lived in a home that wasn't filled with cigarette smoke for my 18 years growing up? Looking back, I'm sure I smelled freakin' awful, especially when I sweat. The Official Clouds in My Coffee High School Crush Julie Wise woulda totally gone out with me, I'm sure. Well, maybe, but I would have had a better chance. Or what if I had actually gone out with Cristie Wright? This wasn't out of the realm of possibility, for a while anyway, so I'm not just grasping at straws here....

In my woulda shoulda coulda world... what if I had never applied for a credit card that freshman fall? What if I just went to school, say two quarters (Troy State was on quarters until the fall after I graduated, then they went to semesters) then worked a quarter? What if I had never gotten two Visas, a Mastercard and a Discover?

In my woulda shoulda coulda world... what if I had paid attention when coming through Elba, instead of running that red light and crashing the Ciera? Or stayed awake when coming home from Enterprise, instead of falling asleep at the wheel and crashing into a telephone pole? Or paid attention when turning left towards The Deuce, instead of just blindly turning in the path of a black Mercedes, driving by Gangsta Pimp? Or stood my ground for the cheaper, more economical Tercel instead of being pushed into the bigger, pricier Sable?

All things I wonder.

In my woulda shoulda coulda world... what if I had studied a little harder, not lost my scholarship because I was lazy for a few months and all that hard earned money had stayed in my pocket and not gone to pay for school? What if I had made it work with Jennifer Mullins? What if I had asked out Elisabeth Bradshaw that night on the golf course? Or what about Melanie Jackson? Julie Echols? Chrissy Bullock? (All married now with kids, or on the way at least). Or Amy Wible? That alone is a story that I could write for days. And did, actually.

In my woulda shoulda coulda world... what if I had actually asked out Mary Ann Crittenden again? (this is only assuming she would have said yes, an assumption I make blindly, unsure of the actual answer at that time, and unsure that I want to know) In this world, I'm not thoroughly convinced that God has One Certain Person for each. Perhaps He, in His wisdom, has a couple, though knowing what He has in store for you, but allowing you the free will to choose what your plan is, versus what His might be? I bring up Mary Ann in this particular line of thought not by coincidence, but in thinking that she might be one of those particular people.

Now, I don't say this out of any dishonor or disrespect for The Lovely Steph Leann... I'm pretty sure she had one or two "What Ifs" in her life, a couple or two of One Certain Persons... heck, she woulda shoulda coulda ended up with Jason Quinn (!) and I have another friend of mine who asked her out, before she and I started dating. She said no, but she might've said yes. But, it makes me think...

In my woulda shoulda coulda world... what if... when The Lovely Steph Leann Campbell had told me in the fall of 2001 that she loved me... what if I had admitted what I knew to be true, yet took me another 9 months to admit... what if I had told her the same. That she was who I was supposed to be with. What if? That's a whole other year we could have added to our story.

Let me wrap this part of the discussion up by saying very plainly and clearly--whether she was My One Certain Person, or the One Certain Person He had for me at The Most Divine Moment, either way, The Lovely Steph Leann and I were meant for each other. Just be around us awhile, you'll probably see that.

One of my favorite things to hear is "I love hanging out with you guys... you guys are so fun together". Not "cute", which I'm sure is nice, but "fun", as in, we are a couple that people enjoy being around as much when we're together as when we're apart. This is a simple compliment, yet its more rare than you might think.

You see the smile that's on my mouth... it's hiding the words that don't come out... and all of my friends who think that I'm blessed... they don't know my head is a mess... no, they don't know who I really am... and they don't know what I've been through like you do... and I was made for you.

I'm wasn't really sure where this blog was going when I started, but I think I know where it will end up. Yes, Clouds in My Coffee Drinkers, you can go crazy thinking about the woulda shoulda coulda in your life... sometimes I think I might. But I lead quite a charmed life. Not a perfect life, mind you, and I probably under-serve my Best Friend and Helpmate in every way possibly, be it conscience or un-, and the fact that I have a personality on Clouds in My Coffee named The Goddess can attest to that... but The Lovely Steph Leann is the blessing that I cannot fathom, if that makes any sense.

This song I've quoted, "The Story" by Brandi Carlile, is amazing. It just is. It actually finished as the #32 Coolest Thing about 2007. I first heard it when I watched Grey's Anatomy's earlier seasons, and it just hits me in one of those funny ways. It has a double digit play on Dave's iPod (though that doesn't mean much nowadays... sometimes I get on "song kicks" where I just want to hear the same song over and over, be it old or new... right now, my Song Kick includes "No Time to Kill" and "Good Run of Bad Luck" by Clint Black, "If I Ever Lose My Faith In You" by Sting and "I Guess the Lord Must Be In New York City" by Nilsson, among others. Who knew?) already, and it doesn't make me sad... or happy... just nostalgic.

All of these lines across my face... tell you the story of who I am... so many stories of where I've been... and how I got to where I am

Bottom line is, I'm a nostalgic person. I've stated this already. I enjoy thinking back to college and even high school, the memories I've had, the things I've done. Perhaps I'll take a cue from McQ, a certain Dave Hall of Famer when she comes on the ballot, and just take the plunge. I've got lots of stories of where I've been... but, as Brandi Carlile says...

But these stories don't mean anything when you've got no one to tell them to... It's true... I was made for you... Ohh yea it's true... That I was made for you


This is the video that accompanied Grey's Anatomy. Might I say this might be the exact, perfect song to go with this video. As a matter of fact, I'm commissioning Scotty Latta to work on this project when I die...

I want this video played at my funeral, but take out all the Grey's Anatomy clips, and replace them with video clips of my own life... let's get Chris McCall and I jumping off the bridge at Ponce de Leon Springs from my childhood, and waiting tables with Victor, Cristie and Sandy at The Wright Place, and an over dramatic shot of my running across campus at Troy State late for class, and for good measure, throw in a shot or two of Tiffany Abbott (The Official Clouds in My Coffee Troy State Crush) rejecting me, perhaps get my first slow dance with Angiejay... wait, scratch that... or maybe Eddie and I dressing up as clowns at that mission retreat, or me directing WalkAbout, and a great video clip of me standing with Best Man Wookiee at my wedding, and I as Best Man at his wedding, and you gotta toss in some Deuce, and Lil Sister Ashley, and KT, and maybe me arguing with Clouds in My Coffee Atty General Brad Latta over politics (we really didn't, but it would look good for the video) and... well, just be creative.

One final thought. This is one of those songs, like many others, you can play at the perfect time. Perhaps when there's a break-up and a get-back-together. But you can play this at the wrong time... like a few weeks ago, when I watched Penn State beat Ohio State. They did a Joe Paterno montage, and played this song behind it. Creepy. Very creepy.

The Facebook Connection

So, on Facebook, somehow I've managed to find almost everyone that I ever met. Well, actually, I've met a ton of people, so the 508 people whom I call friend on Facebook probably doesn't come close to the amount of people I've met in real life.

That being said, its like the last few weeks, long lost acquaintances, crushes, bro's, then-BFFs, high school mates and more have found me. Or I have found them. Here's who I've been in contact with--keep in mind, there is one guy and seven girls on this list, of which I only wanted to date one (maybe two, if you count Cristie...), three more were just visions and two more were good friends, but keep in mind I've already posted about finding Bobby Black and my Samson buddy Chris McCall...

Tiffany Abbott. She was my Julie Wise in college. Had a huge crush on her my freshman year. But she had a boyfriend. For whatever reason. Anyway, I was watching Ricki Lake (loved me some Ricki back in the day) and they put a call out for "Do You Have Feelings For Someone Who Is With Someone Else?", so naturally... I called. Left a voicemail about this hot chick named Tiffany. Two weeks later, they totally called back and asked if I wanted to be on the show. She's married to Kirk McCauley now, and has several rugrats.

Blair Andress. He and I talked more over Facebook in the last few weeks than we may have talked in several years at Troy. A fraternity brother of mine, we swapped stories about some of the chicks that you'll read about in this post. He went out with Tiffany once, and his car exploded. Interesting story. He's married to Miranda, has a blog, and has kids of his own. (just checked out his new blog... he's got a freakin' video intro. All I have is music right now. Dang it.)

Dayla Ellison. We were friends for about two years, my freshman and sophomore years... and suddenly, she wasn't there anymore. Well, she went to Auburn. Got married. Had kids. Saw her the other day for the first time in 13 years. She married Ben Baugh, and has three children.

Heather "The Angel" Hanson. I nicknamed her the Angel, because if I remember correctly, there was heavenly singing and glorious light around her head when she talked to me. Maybe I'm just remembering that wrong... I was an impressionable, single 19 year old boy. I mentioned a few days ago that she's also got a blog, which you can find under "Dave's Fave Blogs" on the right, or click here.

What's my favorite Heather story involving journalism, mud, boxers and college, you ask?... so, one day, I'm trying to get to class. I have a journalism class with McKerrell, and YOU DO NOT miss his classes. Simple as that. I'm racing across Troy's beautiful campus, and I'm faced with a dilemma. I can go down to the end of the sidewalk and down the staircase, or I can just go straight down this hill here in front of me. Of course, its been raining all day, but hey, I'm gonna be late.

So, down the hill I go. And after a second, my foot slips, and down I go. Into the mud. Of course, everyone who sees it is laughing, and frankly, I don't care, because I would laugh my head off at someone else. I pop up, and run into the building, and up the three flights of steps. I dash into the bathroom to assess the damage, and realize I'm filthy. I mean, from my ankles to the middle of my back, I'm covered in mud, and my backpack is destroyed. But I re-iterate... you do not miss McK's classes. And I cannot be sitting in the nice, plush chairs like this. So, what can I do? I strip off my shorts and my shirt, leaving me in my white undershirt and purple striped boxers and shoes and socks. Then, I dash off to class.

As I walk in (right on time, natch), McK looks at me. "David Dollar? Are you in your boxer shorts?" I reply, walking by to my workstation, "Yep. I don't miss class for something like mud." I plop my stuff down at my computer, which happens to be directly across from The Angel herself--as in, if there were no computers, we'd be staring at each other. She looks around her computer with a curious glance, "Dave... are you really wearing boxer shorts?" Not looking, staring at my own computer, I nod, "Yep." She stares at me for a moment, "With nothing under them?" and I finally look at her, "Yep. And as long as you don't flirt with me, we'll be just fine here, Heather." She gives me a chuckle and disappears behind her monitor.

True story. I kid you not.

By the way, I had to walk across campus to our BCM to get to my car, so I could go home and change... well, put clothes on. I had almost made it, when Mike Connor yells at me from across the quad, "David Dollar!! Are you walking around in your boxer shorts????" Looking around to see him, and the 88 other people between us, I just yell, "Yep! Quite drafty!" Years later, when Gordon McKerrell retired, he gave his Top Ten Most Memorable Moments of his Troy career. Amidst the jailed students, drunken parties and Chris Hansen moments, I ranked 3rd. The Lovely Steph Leann caught her quite a man.

Spring Tolson. Now, if Tiffany was my achievable crush, and Heather was just An Angel, then Spring Tolson was my upperclassman-out-of-my-league-entirely goddess before I knew who The Goddess was. I was a freshman, and when you are 18 years old, there is something almost mythical, or even Athena like about a senior, especially a Kappa Delta and gorgeous.

As a freshman, I had a habit of carrying BreathSavers. I would actually get them at Sam's, and would have some in my pocket, because I believe that good breath is good to have, and at certain, unexpected moments, its vital. Like, the one day I had finished a good lunch at The Adams Center with my friend Bobby Black, Miranda Bryant and Mandy Stewart and was off to check my mail. As I was leaving, I popped in a BreathSaver... not just a wintergreen, mind you, but because I was feeling quite happy, I tossed in The Rolls Royce of BreathSavers, The Vanilla Mint.

Without a care in the world, I'm strolling through, when, around the corner, I practically run into Spring Tolson. Like, it might have been the only time we actually had contact. She knew my name, cause honestly, everyone knew who I was... not that I was "all that" but I just knew a lot of people.

Once, Big Wookiee and I were strolling across campus to our cars at the BCM, and when we arrived, he looked at me and said, "I don't like walking with you." Bewildered, I asked, "Really? Whats wrong?" He smirks and says, "Cause, dude, it takes forever. You know, like, everyone, and they all stop and talk to you." Where was I?

Oh, there I am, standing toe to toe with SPRING TOLSON. Perhaps she shared heavenly light and angelic choruses with The Angel (I met Spring a year before I met Heather, so who knows). Anyway, the Kappa Delta says hello, and tells me sorry for running into her, which I respond with Hi Spring and that it was my fault. We stood talking for about ten minutes, and honestly, I don't know what we talked about, nor do I even care. I was just happy to be on Spring Tolson's radar. Now she's Spring McKinley, and taught at Oak Mountain for several year--enough to know and have taught several of my kids from Valleydale Church (an sbc fellowship).

Rona Mock. We had a very small youth group at Samson's First Assembly, or as I like to call it, The House O'Hypocrisy, Dancin' and Universal Tongue Speakin'. (this is an entirely different post, by the way). In this youth group is Chris McCall, Philip Norwood, Doug McCall and Rona Mock, and sometimes Amy Johnson.

Rona and I were just good friends. She wrote a whole page in my yearbook. I helped spearhead the romance between she and Ryan Hutchison (who up until that time also had a thing for Julie Wise--maybe I hooked them up to rid myself of the competition, though Jody Linton still loomed.. again, and entirely different post). I graduated, went to college, she graduated some years later, went to a different college, she married Ryan, I saw her and Ryan at an Auburn bookstore somewhere circa 2000, and that was that. Then, suddenly, she pops up on MySpace, then on Facebook. Apparently, she and Ryan are living here in Birmingham. Currently, I'm working on plans to meet up.

Cristie Wright. Another close friend from high school. Yet again, an entirely different post. We'll stop there.

Dixon Brock. Got a short list of people that I want to find via Facebook or MySpace, and let me just say that Dixon was near the top. We were tight in my later years in college, and though we found each other to be fairly cute and awesome, we never had the slightest inclination in dating. We just talked and chatted and hung out and I even spent a completely-non-romantic-just-buddies weekend with her at her home at the beach in Mobile... Fairhope... wherever.

And one day I find Dayla Ellison online. And a few days later, I find Dixon Brock. And my heart just warmed, because she's so great. She's married with kids too.

There are many left I'd love to catch up with. Melanie Jackson is one. My freshman groupies Miranda Bryant, Allison Hodnett and Mandy Stewart are others. But now that Dixon Brock has been located, I can mark her off my Top Three, which still includes Troy McConnell and Amy Alexander.

FYI... the only reason pics of Blair, Dayla, Dixon, Cristie, Rona and Heather are not online RIGHT NOW is because my scanner isn't working. When it does, they will be posted. Be afraid. Be very afraid. To some, including myself, the early to mid-90s were not kind to people. Spring Tolson, you're off the hook. No pics. I was too intimidated to take any.

FFYI... while typing this blog, out of the blue, Jon Chancey from FarmHouse contacts me. Facebook is taking over the whole world.

Working For a Living

This was originally going to be a blog about Starbucks, but then I got carried away remembering all the places I had worked for...

When I was 15, I got a job washing dishes at The Wright Place, owned by Forrest and Charlotte Wright, in my hometown of Samson. When was 16, I upgraded to waiter, and did that for two more years in high school, then off and on for another three years. Its quite possible that Sandy Wright, the middle daughter of Forrest and Charlotte, was truly my first love--she was that chick who was ahead of you by 3 in grades and a billion miles in leagues.

My gigs at radio stations WKMX and WTBF were also lots of fun... I had the Friday evening shift with Rod Connor, helping out with the high school scoreboard, then at midnight, I took over on the airwaves. Now, they do voice tracking--as in, someone does all the "radio stuff" during the day, and computers play it at night, as if the DJ was really there, but in 1995, I was really there. It was great, but tiring... considering I'd go in at 8pm, I wouldn't leave until 9 the next morning... I wrecked a car this way. Fell asleep at the wheel, the day before Heather Howell and I were going to Atlanta to see Beauty and the Beast at the Fabulous Fox.

WTBF was a smaller station, but with the smaller station I had lots more freedom. I did the mid-morning show, from 9 to noon, and at noon, I would run the board during the Rush Limbaugh Show. I was a Bill Clinton fan during that time... and then discovered Rush.

Every Wednesday night I did "The Wednesday 90s!"--keep in mind this was around '98, so most of the 90s had gone by. I pulled in my two boxes of cds and cassette singles, playing all the forgotten favorites like "Better Than You" by Lisa Keith, "That's What Love Can Do" by Boy Krazy and "Solitude" by Edwin McCain.

Sunday nights were more fun, though, as I did "Sunday Night Power", a 3 hours Christian music show. I even managed to finagle on-air interviews with Audio Adrenaline, Plumb, Third Day, Cindy Morgan, Watermark, Point of Grace and a few more... tons of concerts, free CDs, and with free concerts and free CDs came dates that were inexpensive. Christian women are righteous babes, that's what I always say.

Considering I'm jumping all over the chronology here, I have to mention my freshman year's catering experience at Marriott Catering at Troy State University. I also waited tables there at Troy State for Marriott--along with half of the Indian nation. Funny story, one day I'm moving glasses off of a table, and another waiter, Naveem, was doing the same. The professor engaged him in conversation, finding out he was from Bangladesh. After Naveem left,the professor turned to me, looking at my then-darker and slimmer features, asking, "What country are you from?" I gave him a weird look, and a more southern slang than I intended, I said, "I'm from Alabama."

I did my time in fast food, mine being a Dairy Queen. Its truly a wonder I still can eat Blizzard from there, as I've made plenty of them. I also know that the health department does in fact allow a certain number of tiny gnats into the Blizzard mix, as its impossible to keep them away. They also never cleaned under the chicken pan, when they breaded chicken, and it was quite odiferous. As you pass down 231, coming into Troy, wave at the Dairy Queen. Thirteen years ago, I was there.

Movie theaters are a joke. I worked at two, once in college, once living in Birmingham. I worked at the Carmike 10 in Montgomery for a while... its unbelievable how lazy some high school students--most of the people that worked there--can be. I did get my entire fraternity in for a discount at "12 Monkeys", so thats something. At the time, I worked with Bobby Black, now a Grammy winning and Tony nominated artist, and Lisa Turk, one of my old school BFFs at Troy... I mean, how hard can it be to tear tickets? Not very.

Lisa ended up quitting because she was getting married that March. And they wouldn't tell her they would give her a few weeks off for the wedding. I just decided to stop going. Not sure why Bobby left.

The other movie gig I did was at the Summit here in Birmingham. That place is miserable, I tell you... boring and miserable. I remember working the theater the night the first Harry Potter movie came out. I had my arms outstretched, holding back mobs and mobs of kids and parents of those kids who wanted nothing more than to sit down and finally get their children settled. Of course, one of the good things about working at a theater is that you see lots of movies for free--I watched "From Dusk til Dawn" about 30 times, "Powder" another 30 times, "Life as a House" a few times and... you know, maybe it wasn't that great. I left the Summit 16 because, despite the fact I told the managers there I had a day job and could only work nights, they kept scheduling me to work 11am shifts. I just quit going.

Another job at Troy that I loved was The Pied Pipers, the children's theater troupe. Seriously, we all got dressed up in funny costumes, learned and acted out goofy children stories like "The Three Little Pigs" and "The Tortoise & the Hare" and others, and we would tour the southeast, in Florida, Georgia, Mississippi and Alabama. Imagine spending a week on the road with a bunch of actors, crammed in a van, staying at some of the seediest hotels ever. The All American Inn in Bonifay, Florida? Stay away. I do have some fond memories of The Hampton Inn on Mobile Bay, though... but that's a whole other story.

The stories then? What about the time I actually did throw up in my mouth because a fellow actor smelled so bad? Or the box of cereal that was filled with weevils? Or the very flaky Heli and her odd Lil' Pig? Or the time when Mitch passed out, and we had to cancel "The Tortoise & the Hare"? Perhaps one day I'll share... I'm sure Wendi Deckermiller could add a ton more.

My big crush then was Suzie McGinn... wow, she was gorgeous. And she was really nice to me too. I remember traveling with Michael Brown, and Mitch Kissam, and Whitley Porter (Rives), and and yes, Ambre from Rock of Love 2 with Bret Michaels was there.

Our director was Dr. David Dye, a generally good guy, but a very serious, perhaps offbeat director. We were paid something like $35 per day, and maybe $15 or $20 per day for food, I don't remember which, and our travel expenses and hotel/motel accommodations were covered. But from what I gathered, it was nothing compared to what Dr. Dye was making out of the deal. It reminds me of that scene in "The Shawshank Redemption", where Red is discussing the Warden Norton's "Inside Out" prison worker program... "And oh, how the money rolled in." Kinda felt like that too.

FYI, for anyone interested, I found this site which gives the fate of several Troy actors...

Did some time at The Disney Store too. Like Dairy Queen, I was the first person hired after the initial staff's opening. This is back in the day when The Disney Store was actually owned by Disney (now most of them are owned by Children's Place), and this location was in the Montgomery Mall--and this is back in the day when you could go to Mo'Mall and not get shot. At least, not repeatedly.

That location is gone now, shut down when Disney sold the business and closed a bunch of stores. Actually kinda saddens me, and it has crossed my mind more than once to apply at The Disney Store here at the Galleria.

My first job in Birmingham was a story I'm not proud of. So, therefore, I'm not going to mention it, because you know what, its embarrassing.

However, that bad experience led me to a temp agency, which led me first to a $8 an hour job at Regions, working in the back, scanning checks. Like, I would take a pile of checks, feed them in the machine, and stand back. In 2 weeks, I scanned over 3 million checks (it kept a tally on screen). When the machine broke down, I just sat back and waited for them to fix it.

Its important to note that at that temp agency, a guy named George Marling asked me if I had found a church. I said no. He handed me a green pen with a church named Valleydale on it. He said I should try it. So I did. And 9 years later, I'm still there. Don't ever let anyone tell you those green, now brown, pens are stupid and useless.

It then led to me AmSouth Bank--where Lori Smith Beirne would come to work years later--doing check research. Holy crapping smack was that job boring. I would actually spend 8 hours on five checks, pouring over books and books of data, trying to fill in gaps and figure out where they belong.

And then, that led me to the fateful decision of working at Parisian Corporate/Saks on Lakeshore, first for $6.15 per hour. They had just started the "Home Division", so really, I was doing data entry there. However, out of the 20-something temps they brought in, they only hired like, four, and I was one.

Parisian was truly a great experience... I spent time in the Home Area, then in Advertising, and finally in the Men's Buying Area, and by the end of it, I knew how to run assembly in the warehouse, how to operate the buying systems, how to track the shipments headed to Michigan and Iowa, how to shake down a candle company who refused to pay (no, KT, I'm not kidding--Iris of Excelsior rued the day they crossed me and Janna Morrison, my buyer) and everything else you could think of. Buyers who were coming into the company making 70 and 80 and more per year were coming to my desk to learn how to do basic data entry.

Janna told me once, "Dave, there are 500 divas in the world. 400 of them work here." She was not kidding. Some of the most beautiful women ever worked in that area, but what you thought was honey was turned to sour salsa when you got to know some of them. Especially in cosmetics and shoes. Those women are vicious.

When I got the job at Cox Radio, the department manager said, "Okay, David, what can we pay you to stay?" I said, "$12 an hour". He said, "You already make $10.75. That's really high for your position... actually, you aren't even a sales assistant, you'd be considering an area specialist." He tried for $12, but didn't get it.

At the time, Cox Radio consisted of Oldies 106.9, Rock 97.3, and 104.7 WZZK... I was hired to work for Oldies and WZZK as a sales assistant, and at first, it was really rough. My boss was a lady named Vickie, and... well, she was mean. She wouldn't let me do my job without hovering. I was very, very glad when she left, because then I took over.

Rob & Shannon, freshly plucked from Magic 96.5, was taking over the morning show, and I worked with them in the morning... the first day was September 10th. Of 2001. And you know what happened the next day.

I was with Cox Radio for almost 4 years and in that time, I outlasted 75% of the staff. The entire Rock 97.3 staff was let go, as it became Oldies 97.3, and 106.9 became The Point--The Best of the 80s and More. My job really consisted of helping the sales team with their presentations, slide shows and stuff like that, but it evolved into me being pretty much everyone's right hand guy. I was the guy you turned to when you needed something--to bring up Shawshank again, I was the Red of Cox Radio for a few years.

And oh, how the rewards rolled in... I mean, The Lovely Steph Leann and I (dating at the time--which is funny, because at Parisian, the men's buyer and his assistant I worked for begun to hear the name "Stephanie" as I was leaving the company... they knew little about her, only that I was sort of enamored with her... where was I? Oh yeah...) pay for the Comedy Club Stardome or Birmingham Broadway tickets for over three years. It was awesome. Gift cards from Cracker Barrel and Logan's Roadhouse and IHOP and everywhere else, and free hams from Honeybaked Ham and free CDs and more. Sometimes I didn't have anything to do, so I sat in my office and read comic books. Seriously.

I had the overhead lights pulled out in my corner of the office, and a table lamp in there. I had a cubby full of snacks, and an empty area on the far right of my desk that was empty only because it was where Natalie, or Bob, or Adam or Marcie or whoever would come and sit when they wanted to talk through a presentation, or just talk. I knew so much crap about so many people. It really was one of my favorite jobs ever.

About 2003, I took a job at Starbucks. February '03, to be exact, just part time. I had a day job, so I worked 4 nights per week--I had to start saving money to buy my woman a ring, ya know. And pay some bills.

It was something big that took me away from Cox Radio... perhaps it was God, knowing that if I had stayed there, I might have stayed there forever, and never gone to Starbucks. I mean, 106.9 is now The Eagle, an awesome station, and WZZK has Rick & Bubba, so imagine what kind of fun that job would be now. Of course, going on that rationale, what if I had stayed with Regions when they offered me something permanent?

Anyway, I got offered a job at NBC 13. This was a dream opportunity... I mean, 8 years out of college, and I was going to finally get to use my degree for something purposeful! Yes, it was another sales admin job, but a year there, and I'll be able to work my way over to production, right? I mean, I directed, produced, wrote and sometimes anchored the news in Troy (working with Steve Hauck, thank you), so that experience would pay off, right?

NBC 13 was the absolute worst job I've ever had. There was no room for advancement, there was no room to move, some of the sales people I worked for were, for lack of a better word, complete morons who would blame me when they screwed up (I'm really only thinking of one in particular, though a few more weren't much better... on the flip side, though, I loved me some Kelley G...)

I made at least three serious attempts to make the jump to production, even being willing to work for free to learn what I could. Shot down. Told to stay put. Then, when I was leaving the job, one of the managers said he didn't think I had ambition.

One of the good guys, Gary, they let go. For whatever reason. I received a letter from him at work a few weeks later, simply saying, "Hey, I hate that I didn't get to say goodbye but I was forced out. Thanks for working so hard, and you let me know if I can help you any. David, you're one of the good guys there. Don't let them get to you -- Gary A."

Here's the kind of place it was... Salesgimp #1 asks me to organize files. So I did. Salesgimp #1 later pulls out a file, and then puts it back in the wrong place. Comes to me asking me where it is. I say, "I filed it, like you asked", to which the reply came, "I can't find it". So, I spend the next hour and a half of my time searching various file cabinets around the office for this missing file. Finally, I go back to his office, where Salegimp #1 is gone for a meeting. I decide to take a glance in the desk file cabinet... surely looked there, right? The file was misfiled, about four files away. As in, its supposed to be here, count four file folders with your fingers, and there it was. Clearly marked. I told my boss about it. I got in trouble for it, for calling Salesgimp #1 out.

I didn't leave on the greatest of circumstances with NBC, though I guess thats only with the management. Or one or two in particular, anyway. In one of those "we must decide the best direction" conversations, I volunteered, "I am turning in my two weeks. I'm done. I'll be honest with you guys... I hate this job, its miserable, and you guys make for a terrible work environment." I mean, I'm leaving the job, so what the hey?

"Like, the other two people in my position hate their jobs, your salespeople can't do anything for themselves, Salesgimp #1 (I used his real name in this instance) blamed me for that file missing when he screwed it up, and I still got the heat for it... I feel like I spend the whole day with a napkin in my hand, just awaiting the chance to wipe their mouths."

If you've never had a chance to unload on your boss, especially when it doesn't matter because you are leaving, the feeling is unbelievably refreshing. Some of the sales staff took me to lunch later--Kelley, Barbara, Clif, Minea--and they told me I was getting screwed out of a job. "Its a club," Clif said. "If you aren't in that club, in that clique, you don't make it here. I'm sorry, man. You were one of the good guys."

On the positive side? I became friends with Brooke Smith (from the Bachelor), Stephanie Walker and the wonderfully wonderful Wendy Garner.

In the weeks that followed my departure, one of the sales managers up and left, another was fired, a few more quit, and I was enjoying my full time gig at Starbucks. It was supposed to be temporary, making $8 and some change an hour, until I found something better. My wonderful Lovely Steph Leann said, "Don't worry about it. Take your time, you find what you want to do, we'll make it work. It will be tight, but we'll make it work."

And I discovered that... I liked Starbucks. Not just for part time work, but I really, really liked the company. It was a great company... and so, I finally made the leap, did the interviews and went full time career with The World's Best Coffee Company.

Its one of those stories where I look back and realize what I learned everywhere else... people skills at The Wright Place, cleanliness at Dairy Queen, cultivating creativity at WKMX and WTBF, how to make a napkin into a swan, a peacock and a crown at Marriott Catering, theatrics and drama in Pied Pipers, interpersonal savvy at Cox Radio, adversity at NBC 13...

So, here I am, in the working field now almost 17 years. I'm a manager of a Starbucks Coffee and Tea. Makes me wonder, if this is what all the other jobs was leading me to, or if this is just another learning journey that God has for me, en route to something even bigger.

For now, though, I will continue to do my job. And love my job. Because I do.