Saturday, May 05, 2007

Saturday Morning May 5th



As I continue to import songs into my Itunes for my accountant, I get a chance to do some digging in the old record library. One of my big, huge musical influences is that of a cat named Wes Montgomery. One of my big purchases in life was to get what is known as "The Complete Riverside Recordings." Twelve CDs (how sick is that?)of arguably the greatest American guitar player ever. He never used a pick but had this sweet smooth style that made it sound so easy. Especially today, on a rainy Saturday morning, Wes sounds great. He died in the mid sixties from a heart attack at the age of 43. He was one of those people who would light one cigarette off of another. I had an uncle who did that. Wes was very young when he died and so was my uncle.

Alphabetically, we go from Wes Montgomery to Montrose. What a country!



So, Josh hancock was drunk, not wearing a seat belt, talking on the phone and most likely toking up. Wow! I lost a very good friend of mine back in 1976 who insisted in driving his motorcycle drunk and high. I saw him pull in front of an 18 wheeler after passing him on the highway. Eldon Stottmeister looked just like Bob Seger and died at 21. There wasn't much left of him. His mother was devastated and I will never forget how she cried at the funeral. Since then, I have driven drunk and high and drunk. I remember one time very clearly. Emmis had a big party over a rating victory downtown somewhere. When I left, I could hardly walk, but I got in my pickup with my girlfriend (who was way gassed and passed out )and headed for Chesterfield.
With Fleetwood Mac on the stereo turned up really loud the thought process went something like this....keep it between the lines, between the lines..between the lines and by the grace of God, I made it.

Fast forward to the fall of 2005, in Kansas City, working for Learfield and embibing during the "Every Wednesday Club" at Ponaks, a Mexican restaurant on Southwest Boulevard. Six margaritas later, I try to drive to my friend's house in Waldo. I get one half block away at an intersection I have navigated a hundred thousand time before. I stop, pull into the intersection and get broadsided by a 19 year old college student and her fiance. "Cross Traffic Does NOT stop" My first thought was on how drunk I was and that this was it, I would lose my car, family and have to spend thousands of dollars to get out of this. I try to gather my wits and see if everyone is OK. The girl is absolutely scared to death and I try to make sure she is OK. The police arrive and one cop asks me if I had been drinking. Oh shit, do I tell the truth, knowing I will be going to jail or do I lie? I lied. He walked away.
I can't say how badly I felt about the accident. I had to put that girl through some hardships as she struggled to go to class without a car. I wrecked my car and had to come home on the train. I quit drinking and driving at that moment. Never again. It could have been a hell of a lot worse and I thank God it wasn't. It's one of those moments in your life when God tugs at your shoulder and lets you know He's still there and in charge.

Wait, is that the sun? Oh sorry, false alarm. Maybe soon.

2 comments:

Brian Holland said...

Oh dear--I've apparently made a tactical error somewhere along the way, because my alphabetical CD collection goes from The Monkees to Montrose!

Chicago Socialista said...

Last time I drove drunk, I had borrowed a friend's car. I was only 20. I remember passing out in the front seat before I left the party (good old Edwardsville VFW) to go home. I woke up, drove home clutching the steering wheel for dear life and bargaining with God for my safe passage home.

There but for the grace of God go I...

Bonnie

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