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Candystripe
Oct '83
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Argyle
April '84

First Nerds
April '85
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Super Heros
Oct '85
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Fancy Nerds
April '86
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Baseball
July '86.
|
The Truck
by Brian Philbin
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In 1985, I was attending my first
International Convention. The Ivy League had sung in numerous hospitality
rooms throughout the week and on Saturday we took in the performances of
every Top Ten Quartet we could find.
At about 3:00 AM we'd had about
as much entertainment as we were going to get for the evening. Sleep deprived
though we were, we all felt quite awake and decided this would be the best
time to get started on our trip home, so Bob Hartley, Scott Turnbull, Dave
Drouillard and myself set out to hit the highway as it were.
I volunteered, saying "Hey, I'm
WIDE awake... I'LL drive." About 25 minutes into the drive I noted that
the lines on the freeway looked kind of like... dreamy marshmallows...
and about then I felt the Jeep Cherokee and the camping trailer we were
pulling lurch as I quickly then pulled myself out of dreamland and swerved
back onto the freeway from the shoulder of the road, which was where I'd
inadvertently been heading.
Bob spoke up at this point, "Brian,
pull over - I'LL drive - I'm more awake than you." Point taken. I pulled
over onto the shoulder of the freeway, we switched places and I drowsily
slumped into the passenger seat as Bob pulled back onto the freeway.
About 20 minutes into the drive,
I feel the familiar *lurch* of the Cherokee and the camping trailer again
being pulled back onto the freeway after having driven the shoulder for
a moment - compliments of Mr. Sleepy in the driver's seat.
I decided it was best to give
in at this point - Bob, there's a rest area in 5 miles - let's just pull
over, park and sleep there for awhile, okay? Bob readily agreed - about
3 miles further, though, Morpheus was taking over the vehicle once again
- Bob awoke quickly and frightened himself by how close he'd come to hitting
the embankment at the side of the freeway. The adrenaline kept him awake
for the next two miles until we reached the rest stop. There was no place
to park with our payload, so we pulled the oversize vehicle and the trailer
into one the elongated parallel parking spaces behind a line of 18 wheelers
and we went quietly to sleep in the passenger and drivers seats. I curled
up and reclined my seat, Bob relaxed back with his fingers resting on the
wheel and our other two members fast asleep in the back seat.
I'm not certain how much time
had passed... not much, since it was still dark out, but it became rather
windy that evening. So much so that the swaying motion of the vehicle caused
me to awaken and I drowsily looked over at Bob, who also stirred slightly...
then opened his eyes... then quickly adopted a saucer-eyed panicked look,
gripped the steering wheel and screamed AAAAAIIIIIIIGGGGGHHH - &%*#@!!
and shoved his foot into the brake pedal with all his might as he stared
down the rear bumper of the *parked* 18-wheeler in front of us. Realizing
that he'd mistakenly believed that he'd just killed us all by falling asleep
at the wheel - the rest of us laughed uncontrollably for about, oh, five
minutes.
Bob, exasperated by the excitement,
then turned to me and said Okay... I'm - awake now, I think I'll drive
for awhile...
(Brian Philbin, writer of stuff,
reveals that Bob Hartley has since continually opted to take his trips
via airline - statistically, the safest mode of travel.) |
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Tourists
April '87
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Cub Scouts
April '88
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Crazy
April 89'
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WhiteTux
July '89
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Nudists
July 90' |