My old friend Sully called this morning. He's a radio buddy dating back to my time in Houston. God did I hate living in Houston! Nothing about that city ever made me happy... except for my great friends and the fantastic job that brought me there.
My favorite Sully quote - yelled at top volume, with his head dangling out the window of his truck:
"You're drivin' a lunch box!
You're driving a LUNCH BOX!!!!"
The lunch box in question was one of those 1980's egg-shell cars, and it was preventing us from abandoning the backed up parking lot of a highway in favor of driving on the shoulder.
Sully and I are as different as night and day - but maybe that's why the friendship works.
During our time in Houston, I was the Creative Services Director of a radio station called 104 KRBE, and Sully did the night show from 6 to 10pm. When he arrived at work each afternoon, he'd pass by my studio around a quarter after four. Each day, the pattern was the same.
His hand would hit my studio's swinging door, causing it to fly open. I'd look, but there was nobody there. From down the hall I'd hear an echo of "COFFEE!!!" Sully was walking into the next room to gather a few things for his show & then we'd head across the street to the coffee shop inside Borders.
Actually, we'd DRIVE there.
It probably took longer to drive than to walk a distance that short - but driving is the Texas way. I used to say that people I worked with would drive to the bank, which is noteworthy because the radio station was on the 7th story of the Bank Of America Building. It's a matter of checks and balances really: in Oregon, we work to protect our environment, so Texans put an equal effort into destroying theirs. I suspect there was a local ordinance legally requiring us to drive across the street rather than walk. And we complied.
After a while, I started anticipating the ritual of my studio door flying open to reveal an empty hallway each day around 4:15.
My mouth would start to water around 4pm. It was downright Pavlovian... as if somebody rang a bell and I'd wag my tail in anticipation of a treat. Pavlov rang a bell. Sully smacked my studio door while walking down the hall.
The effect was pretty much the same really, though Pavlov's dog wasn't legally obligated to pollute. Or was he?
nothing just good job::::: | October 15, 2008 11:16 AM