Naked & Unafraid

 



I suppose a gathering of old fraternity brothers is like a gathering of war buddies.  There are always tales that are told.  Some of them are repeated, and many of them are embellished, but it doesn’t really matter - it’s about reliving common experiences with people that were important to you. And it recently happened again.  One of our fraternity brothers happened to be back in town, which gave us a perfect reason for a group of us to reconnect for lunch. Predictably, the stories began flowing. 

Almost immediately, a couple of guys yelled, “Hey Joe!  Tell everybody the one about Carol and Walt!” I have recounted this story a number of times, so I felt like a DJ getting a request for a number one song.  “Most of these guys haven’t heard it,” they said.  Several of my fraternity brothers nodded in agreement. Of course, the performer that resides in me didn’t need much encouraging, so I took the stage. 


As I recall, it was about an hour before a Saturday night fraternity party, and there was a lot of activity in the upstairs living quarters.  Guys were in their rooms, putting on their Sears khakis, topsiders, and green Izod shirts - a standard frat uniform at the time. Soon they would head to sorority row to pick up their dates.  Since I had a regular girlfriend, Carol, she had special status and was already in my room, waiting for the me to finish drying my hair.  She was sitting on the edge of my bed by the door, which was half opened, making small talk with some of the pledges who walked by. They wisely made it a point to interact with an active brother’s girlfriend. Soon Walt, the president of our fraternity, rounded the corner of the hall.  Walt was a straight arrow, a genuine nice guy, and a fine young Methodist.  However, on this particular evening, he was obviously running late, because he had just left the shower and was headed towards his room - with his towel draped over his shoulder. Yep, he was “neckid a jaybird”, as my Mom would say.  And Carol had an 

eye-to-thigh view of everything.  


My wife has always been able to come up with quick and sometimes sarcastic remarks which are funny on occasion. She also has no filter.  This doesn’t bode well for me, as I’m usually the target of her comments.  For example, several years ago we were consulting a urologist about surgically removing part of my prostate.  When we were sitting in the his office to review the test results the physician said that my prostate was twice as large as a normal man’s. Upon hearing that Carol responded, “What a shame it’s not the same on the outside as it is on the inside.” The physician laughed nervously while I shot her a look that would kill a small animal. 


And fifty years ago, it was no different than now, except that my fraternity brother Walt was the target. Looking back, it was his own fault. Walt being the nice guy that he is, wanted to set things straight. Predictably, in about 15 minutes, he showed up at my room, fully clothed, to apologize to Carol for his indiscretion. What a mistake. I knew he was about to get zapped, and I was just glad for once that I wasn’t going to be the zappee. 


He stepped into the room, smiled sheepishly, and said, “Carol, I just wanted to say I’m sorry about what happened a few minutes ago.” 


Carol responded instantly, saying,”Well, Walt if you hadn’t come back I wouldn’t have known it was you - I sure wasn’t looking at your face.” Game, set, match. Don Rickles would’ve been proud. 


Walt’s face turned as red as a vine ripe tomato, and he laughed nervously. Clearly, he didn’t get the meek response he anticipated. But, he had never dealt with Carol. 


I’m sure that about 50 years later Walt has put this story in his archives where it lays silently.  That is, until he shows up at one of our fraternity lunches. Then once again, it’s sure to be front and center -  just like he was a half century before. 



Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

God & The Rolling Stones

Image
  “'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future. '” —  Jeremiah 29:11 .  It’s not often that I put a plan together that works. Normally, anything I come up with will almost certainly go awry, and that’s certainly how one of my latest schemes  began.  Amazingly, shortly after this plan of mine began to unravel, it turned 180 degrees and became one of the best things I’ve ever done. So, as a believer, I feel like that the Almighty had His hand in this - even if it was a Rolling Stones concert.  I still maintain that it was a good idea. The minute Stones concert tickets went on sale, I bought two pair - for us and another couple. Then greed took over my soul and I decided to speculate and buy four more tickets to sell at a ridiculous profit. If I played my cards right, I might have made enough money to buy a Maserati, or even a shopping basket full of groceries....
Read more

Joe Willie, Finebaum, And Me

Image
  When my cell phone rang, the name on the screen flashed Paul Finebaum. This wasn't an unusual occurrence because I had been writing jokes for Paul to use at his many speaking engagements.   We also occasionally ate lunch together.   No death threats please - I like Paul. While I don’t always care for his schtick, I know he’s not like his radio persona.  For example, once during a conversation, I told him how much I liked Pat Conroy, the great southern author. A few weeks later, Paul called me and said, “I’ve got Conroy on the show tomorrow. Why don’t you come up and meet him?  You can talk to him during the commercial breaks.”  An act of kindness I’ve never forgotten.   I digress. Unusual call or not, my curiosity was piqued. I picked up my cell, and after some chit-chat, Finebaum told me why he phoned.  “You know about that charity roast of me coming up in a couple of weeks?”  Of course I knew. The airwaves had been hawking it for ov...
Read more

Back In The Saddle Again

Image
I never officially retired from comedy.     I kind of faded into the sunset.  I suppose I could trace the time back to when Jay Leno quit the Tonite Show.  He tried to help me get together with Jimmy Fallon, but it just didn’t work out. And when I stopped writing jokes every day for Jay,  maybe the sense of urgency to “think funny” stopped.      But I firmly believe that the cumulative effect of my son’s drug addiction, coupled with him being shot, arrested, and spending 7 years in a federal prison, caused something to die in me.  It was comedy. What used to be a burning desire to write and perform shrunk to a pilot light. It didn’t seem to matter anymore. I have told close friends that dealing with all the problems my son had raped me of my spirit.  It was collateral damage from his drug use. Addiction sucks.   So, aside from the occasional smart alec remark on social media, I left comedy alone.  Oh, I would occasionally find ...
Read more