The Good Old Days

The day has been 'normal' so far: (tap) up at 0930, heavy gassing (throat gas) during my tape of the Today show, a little tv news, problems trying to sign in to bloggger (can't find server), brunch, and here I am. By the way, blogger always 'starts' with this font for some reason, so I will continue (right lung gas here - I'm back) with this font. I am also becoming more aware of the time/date issue with blogger. Blogger is off Denver time by one hour (dst?), so I correct the time and use that as my start time. I correct the time again before 'publishing.'

Where was I? Still in Denver running my BBS, receiving obscene messages from a nutcase out there somewhere. After six months (or so) of this I decided to 'fold' (tap) The Chess Board and head to Florida (tap). It would be my second try for Florida. The first try ended in disaster.

I think the first try was in '83: I loaded up the big blue marvel (my blue ford station wagon) with my most precious stuff and took off for Disneyland. I found a fancy motel in Kissimee and began to search for an apartment. About a week later I was ready to move in to the new apartment. I called Kootch the (tap) night before I planned to leave the motel. I told them (Kathy was there at the time) that I was 'in the middle of Florida.' That may have been a mistake. Next morning the big blue marvel was gone. I reported the theft to the local police who seemed to be only mildly interested. In fact, they seemed suspicious. They found the car in a swamp a year or so later. They called me in Denver wanting to know whether I wanted the rusty hulk back. I told them to stuff it.

I hung around the motel for a few days waiting for the cops to find the car. When it became clear they would not find it I called Kootch and advised her that I was flying back to Denver. I arrived in Denver with the clothes on my back and my briefcase, which contained, along with the usual briefcase stuff, a fully loaded .38 caliber Detective Special. (Or maybe it wasn't loaded. Now that I think about it I probably unloaded it before going to the airport. I had bought the gun in '80 when it became clear to me that I had a nutcase to worry about. Those were the good old days before the rise of terrorism made life complicated, and nobody was interested in the contents of my briefacase.)

I am convinced that they listened to my phone call - at least to the Denver side of the conversation - then hired some PI in Orlando to call around the motels in the area. When they found my location they hired a towing company to tow the car away to a 'safe' area. I am further convinced that the Nut Case then flew to Orlando to inspect the prize and confiscate whatever stuff appealed to him. Used underpants would certainly have been high on his list. There were lots of books (boom) too, probably not of much interest to the Old Sniffer. I eventually replaced most of the books but two irreplaceable items were, my high school yearbook, and my pilot log books. (1:20)