Lifestyles of the local media

Many years ago, somewhere around the time I changed from radio to TV, I knew a guy that was a big time local TV producer and executive.

He lived in a very large house on the beach somewhere on the windward side.

I forget the exact location – but that’s not important.
It was one of these places that was isolated and had a big yard down to a wide beach.

One year he threw this tremendous party in the summer.

Beer on the BeachMaybe a hundred or more people were invited for volley ball, a few some beers, other games and just enjoy the day.

It was great fun with people in the same business.

So why am I telling you about this?

Because of the race.

It’s one of those events that became lore in the broadcast world.

The plan:
Teams would be put together and a relay race would be run up the beach, around the house and whatever.

Clothing optionalExtra curricular:
Those who chose to run naked got extra points.

This was before the days of smartphones, small cameras and websites.

So what happened on the beach stayed on the beach.

More women than men decided to shuck their swimsuits and go for it.

Probably not more than a two dozen streaked, but it was enough to bring the entire crowd to the shore and watch and cheer and check everyone out.

Yes, I know what some of your favorite 80’s and 90’s radio and TV people looked naked.

Good times.
Bet you never heard this story before.

Would you know some of the names involved, especially if you are over 50?
You bet.

And that’s why I’m not going to tell you.
What happened on the beach should stay on the beach.

Now you’re grumpy.

The morning poop check

Imagine this if you will.

I’m sitting bleary-eyed at my computer early in the morning checking email and waiting for the coffee to kick-start my system.

My bride comes into my office and says, “You gotta see this.”

And shoves a napkin with a fresh pile of dog poop under my nose.

How’s that image in your mind?
Imagine being at the receiving end of it.

Now, I have nothing against the dog doing his business – but in the back yard, please.

In her defense, if that’s possible in this instance, we have a very sick dog and she judges his present condition by the attributes of his morning business.

No poop inspectionIt really isn’t necessary to share it with me.

A verbal report is more than sufficient, thank you.

I try to understand the vet said to keep an eye open for changes since the dog is ill and I’m glad the wife takes it seriously.

But marriage is built on trust so if she says anything’s out of the ordinary I am more than willing to take her word on it.

There’s no need for me to look two inches from my nose to validate her observation.

Nor is it necessary for me to participate in this forced sniff test.

Although I admit we may have stumbled on the perfect diet because my appetite immediately disappeared and remained so for the rest of the day.

She never asks about my poop when I’m sick so suspect it’s an empty nest thing at her age.

Yeah, this is really gross and I probably made you grumpy.

Welcome to my world.

Playing golf with the President

This is a true story.

It was a dark and stormy night.
Really.
I’ve waited years to be able to write that line.

Back in the late 90’s when I was working for Mayor Jeremy Harris, Bill Clinton flew into town.

Thumbs up HawaiiMyself and a camera crew from the city’s Municipal TV came to get a some video for the “Thumbs Up” campaign.

Probably no one remembers it.
It really was a crappy idea that bombed.

But anyway, we joined up with Mayor Harris and President Clinton on the green after the Secret Service gave us a cavity search.

The idea was to give them a countdown and they were supposed to both give a big thumbs up and say, “Thumbs Up Hawaii!”

The whole thing was destined to be public service announcement.

We kept doing take after because the two of them couldn’t get into sync.
Then there were the fits of giggles.

A great time was being had by all and it was priceless video – but useless for the Thumbs Up campaign.

Suddenly the Governor slides up next to them to get in the shot.

Magic happened, pigs started flying and hell froze over as all three got it perfectly.

The only good take out of dozens and the Governor muscled into it.

The Mayor was not pleased.
He didn’t like the Governor.

They now shared the PSA forever.

By now it’s getting dark and President Clinton wants to play more golf.

So off he goes with the Mayor, a few others and dozens of Secret Service guys.

We tagged along for a bit but it’s getting too dark for any TV camera.

So, we pull up a seat on the fairway and watch these guys hitting the ball from the tee in the dark.

There are no lights on this golf course and it’s now pitch black.
Can’t see your hand in front of your face.

The Secret Service is spread out waiting to hear the ball go by and then one runs to where it lands and holds up a cigarette lighter so everyone can see where to go.

When they get there, another agent stands next to the flag and holds up his cigarette lighter to show them where to aim.

golf-ballThis goes on for quite a few holes.

Sadly, no pictures seem to exist of this wonderful day.

So, here’s a picture of a golf ball instead.
You’ll have to imagine the rest.

But it happened and very few knew about it.

Everyone had a grand time except the Mayor.

He was grumpy about the Governor sneaking into his TV thing.