Most of my life can be recounted by events of the time, music on the radio, or bands I was playing with. However, there was a period during the early 1980s when I seemed lost at sea. I have difficulty even navigating back in time to those years. The compass in my head is cloudy, the stars have grown dark. Memory is fuzzy. This is one of the reasons I feel strongly about writing these blogs and compiling them into a book...the fear of losing my memory with age or worse. This particular chapter will help me remember the lost years.
My memory follows the map of my life fairly continuously up to the point where I decided to suddenly drop anchor, chart a new course, and set sail for less treacherous waters. I was back at Illinois Central College after being out of school for almost two years, I was rusty. It took my brain an extra second to comprehend ideas or take notes in class. The two years off with hard partying had dulled my senses a bit, but within a few weeks, I was feeling good about myself and actually making some of the best grades of my life. I felt relieved that I was getting a second chance and knew that I was finally back on course. By the end of my first year back, I was carrying a 3.0 average and was meeting some new positive people. The rock and roll band was over for now, but I did still play with our family band occasionally on weekends.
By now, I had developed an interest in Radio and TV Production, which would eventually see me getting my Associate Degree in Arts & Science in May of 1983. Those were fun and productive years where I felt as though I was actually learning a craft of some kind. In Television Production, I found I was good at editing, directing, and all other aspects of programming. One achievement was heading up the production team of The Cougar's Den, a weekly sports program that highlighted the ICC's women's basketball team. Duties included weekly production meetings with the staff, shooting and editing tapes of basketball games, setting up and videotaping interviews, and then editing all material into a 30-minute program. It was my first experience with anything that resembled real-life job experience. I learned a lot during those years.
It had been smooth sailing, but after graduating from ICC, I had to make another choice. I decided that I should continue my TV Production ambitions and continue my education at Illinois State University. Funding ISU was my responsibility, and I looked into filing for a Pell Grant and finding living accommodations. After a short summer, I found myself saying goodbye to my girlfriend and my Mom and drove away into the night, hoping I could remember how to find the house that my roommates and I would be renting.
The first few weeks at ISU were challenging. One of my course requirements was participating on the production team of the local Channel Ten news team, which meant I had to check out expensive television cameras daily and then follow instructions to meet a student reporter and videotape a news event. My next responsibility was to edit the tape and have it in respectable condition to be aired live on the 6:00 news. This in itself was challenging on its own, but I also had several classes each day that took up precious time!!! On top of that, since I wasn't getting any more financial support from home, I was expected to get a part-time job, so I could pay my monthly expenses outside of rent. This is the point where the storm clouds began to reappear, and the waves began to churn!!!! I had never had to micromanage or multitask my time like this before.
I've often said that one of the best things a person learns in college is how to multitask. You learn how the real world works. Unfortunately for me, I did not learn that lesson easily. I could handle the classes and homework, papers and tests, but my responsibilities with the Channel Ten news team were never-ending. The news never takes a break!!!!
The next problem adding to my stress was my part-time job at Garcia's Pizza. I had to work my shift around my Channel Ten News Team schedule, which would revolve weekly around on-air camera, audio, or floor manager positions or the afternoon shooting and editing jobs. It seemed I had two bosses, my Garcia's manager and TV Ten's department head. When I worked at Garcia's, I would make the dough in the back from 5:00 til close at 11:00 or 11:30. I would be exhausted after a long day of classes and work, but soon I found a way to unwind!
The manager at Garcia's was a great guy who actually turned me on to the music of John Prine. I'll never forget that. I'll also never forget that after we closed the doors of the restaurant and cleaned up, all employees had free access to all the draft beer we could drink!!! Many of us would stick around for hours and drink draft beer, play pinball, and listen to John Cougar's Jack And Diane on the jukebox over and over!!! This activity went on for weeks and months until I was having trouble getting out of bed to get to 8:00 classes. I began falling behind in my studies. I was burning the candle at both ends, and it was making my life difficult. Perhaps this is why these years seem a little foggy! My girlfriend's decision to end our relationship over the phone one night didn't help my mental health much, either. I was very depressed.
My release would come on the weekends when I would go home for two days, but often, I'd be scheduled to work Sunday night, so I'd have to reluctantly drive back Sunday afternoon after partying with my buddies on Friday and Saturday nights. It was hard on my body, even as a young man. As I mentioned earlier, my memory of these years is kind of foggy. I can't pinpoint exactly when I met up with my old friend, Dave, but I do remember the series of events that led up to another "dance with death" that I somehow managed to avoid.
Dave was my guitar teacher at Flores Music in Pekin, IL, and I had started lessons again in the mid-70s. Mostly to help with learning songs that we were trying to play in our high school band. Our paths crossed again at ICC a few years later when we were both attending college. We even played together in the ICC Jazz band. After graduating, Dave left for Texas, and we communicated through letters for several years. One Saturday night, I was playing with our family band somewhere in Peoria, and Dave mysteriously appeared during our last set. He waited for us to pack our gear and offered to drive us to the Kollisium in Creve Couer to continue the evening. I began to notice at the club that Dave seemed a little more intoxicated than usual. He was always Mr. Cool and rarely exhibited any signs of inebriation. My guess was he was doing more than drinking, although I couldn't prove it.
After a while, Dave seemed to become confrontational, and then he'd chill out again and return to looking for a girl to dance with. We stayed until closing, which was 3:30 or 4:00 in the morning. Dave was driving his mother's car since he had flown into town from Texas earlier in the week. We pulled out of the parking lot, and Dave began to drive aimlessly, looking for another place to stop and party. By now, I was tired, and I was ready for bed. Plus, there was nowhere else to go!!!! I kept saying, Dave, you're going the wrong way!!!! My house is across the bridge!!!! He was beginning to speak in some mumbled language by now, and I was sobering up quickly!!! He drove and drove, taking us further and further from Bartonville.
The sun was up when Dave finally gave up looking for some other place to land. We were finally getting closer to my home. We came to a four-way stop at Creek Road and Farmington Hill, and I finally got fed up with this silly road trip when he didn't make the left-hand turn that he should have made. "Dave, where are you going now?" "you should have turned back there." Instead, he stomped on the gas pedal of his mother's car and began up a steep hill that led up Farmington Road. I shouted, "Dave, where the hell are you going?" Once we got to the top of the slightly curved hill, Dave decided that he would correct his navigation error and turn his mom's car around, illegally at the top of the hill!!! Once he had crossed the oncoming lane of traffic, we were facing the right direction, and Dave proceeded to gun the car DOWN THE HILL before losing control, swerving across the oncoming lane again, before riding the inclined hill through various small bushes, trees, and other foliage. The car TIPPED OVER and began skidding on its roof while we spun 360 degrees until we finally came to a stop in the middle of the road!!!! We could have been struck by another car many times during this hillside maneuver, but luck once again was on my side.
Ted Nugent's Free For All was still blasting through the car's speakers when Dave shut off the engine. All I could think about was getting the hell out of that car before it was broadsided by an oncoming truck!!!! We crawled out of the windows and waited on the side of the road for the police to arrive. Dave was white as a ghost as he stared at his mother's totaled car! We needed an alibi. I had been through a similar situation once when I hit a parked car on my way home one night. I told the police officer that I swerved to miss a dog!!!! Perhaps that would work again? I told Dave to tell the cop, who'd be arriving any second, that a DEER ran out from the side of the road, and you swerved to miss it.
Soon, the police were taking statements, and sure enough, Dave pointed to the trees on the RIGHT and said a deer had run out from over there!!! A few more minutes went by, and Dave repeated the alibi, only this time, he pointed to the trees on the LEFT and said, “The deer just shot out from over there." The cop was paying attention and said, "I thought you said the deer came from the RIGHT." Dave replied, “Yeah, that 's right!" "It shot out from right over THERE." This time, pointing in another direction!!!!
After learning that the car was his mother's and Dave was from out of town, one of the officers asked if I could drive Dave home to Pekin if they took us to my house, which was close!!! That was odd, but I didn't argue!!! A few minutes later, we were dropped off at my parent's home, and we got into my car, and I began to drive Dave to his Mother's house. It was quiet in the car for several miles before Dave muttered, almost in a trance, “That damn deer...just shot out from nowhere!" “DAVE," I said!!! "THERE WAS NO FUCKING DEER!!!!"
Just another white-tailed lie from the ORANGE ROOM.
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