I don’t know if I am the only one, but I have many dreams about hanging around with famous people. In most of the dreams I have a great interaction with the celeb or celebs, and they like me.
Before waking up I think to myself “How cool will it be when I tell friends that Paul Newman and I talked about my old Datsun 280Z.” That dream came close to being true. Before moving to Chicago I got my 280Z worked on at “The Z Shop” in Chamblee. The owner Ben was a friend and possible business partner of Newman, who raced Datsun Z cars. Ben said Paul would kill him if he told me or any other customer when Paul was expected, but if I happened to be there Paul was an easy guy to talk to. I was tempted to go hang out and just wait on Paul but had a day job mismanaging conventions that made it not very practical.
Not long after Larry Munson left us in 2011 I dreamt that I hung out with Larry and Lewis. I still lived in the Redneck Riviera selling swampland, but on Saturdays for more than a decade I pulled off to the side of the road to hear Munson call UGA games on whatever radio station I could pull in - I think from Mobile.
Larry leaving us when old affected me as much as Lewis leaving us young way back in 1994. Many will likely attest to the same.
The dream went something like this. We were in someone’s living room, the three of us minding our own business in relative quiet. Maybe Larry and Lewis were reading something. Larry was not wearing headphones, but this picture works as well as any.
Out of nowhere Larry said, “Lewis, who is this other guy in the room?”. Lewis replies, “No idea. I thought you let him in.”
Suddenly having been noticed, I was at a loss for words, which never happens in my dreams. I pondered what to say to these two legends. I finally came up with, “Larry and Lewis, I am a 1979 UGA grad who loves the Dawgs as much as you did and loved both of you when you were alive, loved in a manly, heterosexual sense that is. I am not sure who let me in this room or how I got here. But I promise to behave and be quiet if you do not kick me out.”
Lewis said something like, “If you are going to behave and remain quiet we are a whole lot more likely to kick you out. Larry and I have little interest in quiet people who behave.”
I replied, “Okay, I grew up in Sandy Springs, having moved to Georgia in 1967 when I was age 9. Larry was new at broadcasting UGA games, and I was new to listening to them. When I went from reading the comics to the Atlanta Journal sports page I vaguely remember reading some of Lewis’s columns. I was a Junior at UGA when Lewis came back from Chicago and after a short spell began writing humor columns. My fraternity brothers and I used to pass around the paper laughing at those columns, which at that time were in the Atlanta Constitution.”
“I do not want to get too far into the weeds, but I was pledge trainer to Danny Anderson, Loran Smith’s first cousin. Loran was kinda sore at Danny for not running track at UGA like Loran did. Danny wanted to have fun instead, and I trained Danny to have fun, something he is very good at today. He is President of a company that insures whatever they call the Gator Bowl, and he has a box at every Georgia-Florida game. Danny invites me to that box only during years when he knows I can not attend. Otherwise he will meet me tailgating, bum a cigar off of me before saying he must depart for the box with no room for me.”
Lewis chimed in, “You do talk a lot. Maybe the quiet you would be better. Larry and I were reading before we saw you broke in.”
I was going to explain that I did not break in, but that would be whining. I gathered Larry and Lewis had zero tolerance for whining. So I meandered and changed the subject with this:
“Lewis, remember the Run Lindsay Run play you missed because you had given up on the Dawgs? I was not there, but the same Danny Anderson and I went to the Auburn game at Auburn the following week. That was the one Dorsey Hill drove to straight from Jacksonville, or so you wrote. After the Dawgs victory I met Loran for the first time. Danny wanted to beat traffic out of wretched Auburn, but I insisted that we meet his cousin.”
Lewis again, “If you are going to keep yammering let’s hear about you not behaving. Larry and I might kick you out yet.”
Me again, “Danny and I did a lot of not behaving at UGA. But there is still a remote chance he might invite me to that box for a Georgia Florida game. I would do well to not incriminate Danny. How about New Years Eve before the National Championship game in New Orleans. Lewis, you were in the French Quarter selling Lucky Dogs. My hot date and I ate a bunch of Lucky Dogs but somehow missed the stand you took over. My date and I were scared to go back to our ‘kinda near the Quarter’ dangerous lodging, so we got very little sleep that night.”
Lewis again, “That’s a little better. Did you get NEKKID with that date, or were you too afraid to go back to that dive hotel?”
Me again, “Now Lewis, a gentleman does not kiss and tell or get NEKKID and tell. Do you really want me to answer that question?”
Larry now, “Lewis, the kid is right. Let’s mind our manners.”
Me again, “Thank you Larry. In 1984 I moved to Chicago, where I could not hear Larry, read Lewis or get any University of Georgia news, same as Lewis. But I loved Chicago for 14 years.”
Lewis again, “You LOVED Chicago?! We are for certain going to kick you out. My guess is you might be a closet Yankee.”
I held my tongue on that one. In particular I did not want to mention being William Tecumseh Sherman’s cousin.
Larry again, “Lewis, this kid seems to be okay despite years in Chicago. Remember, he pulled off to Redneck Riviera roadsides for a decade just to listen to scratchy me on the radio.”
Me again, “Thank you Larry. Since this is a dream let’s time travel to 2020. I found this 1986 you two celebrating a Dawgs victory over someone. It is the only photo anyone I know has of you two together. Do either of you have a photo box in Heaven?”
(OK, I embellished that paragraph. I had to show off this photo.)
Lewis again, “My ex-wives ended up with all of my photo boxes. Why did you not drop by and raise a toast with Larry and me?”
Larry again, “Lewis, in 1986 the kid lived in Chicago. Pay attention. Kid, did you ask Loran if he has a photo of Lewis and me? I would ask him like this. 'Whaddaya got Loran?' He likes that a lot and always answered to me with something clever.”
Me again, “Well Larry, I am not you, but I did ask Loran only weeks ago. He is still busy writing books. But that was 2020, and this dream is 2011. I have already embellished too much. It might be a good idea to skip Varsity Chili Dawgs before bed.”
Lewis now, “No, don’t do that. You need to bark at night. For that last comment I will forgive you for liking Chicago and maybe being a closet Yankee. Hey, has anyone written a book about me?”
Me finally, “Well Lewis, funny you ask … “
Then my alarm went off so I could go sell Redneck Riviera swampland. That is my story and I am sticking to it.
