LSUcks

Many years ago, having been kicked out of Arkansas State University, and asked not to return to it’s branch campus at Beebe, I became a student at Ole Miss. I lived in a dorm called Twin Towers. Seems like every college has a dorm named ‘Twin Towers’.

On the seventh floor, we had an interesting collection of lunatics. We had a guy from Canada who came to Ole Miss because he loved Archie. Dave was from Chicago. He sounded like Chicago, but was a redneck party animal to the core. Major was the strongest guy I have ever met, and we used to skydive together. Stewart played the trumpet until we taught him not to. Turns out that if you dangle a guy out of the 7th floor window, he gets the message pretty quickly. Pete was quiet and social while Jerry was loud and social. The seventh floor of the West Tower was party central in the fall of 1978.

The late 70’s were dark days for Ole Miss football. Steve Sloan was the Head Coach and despite the absence of a functional offensive line, we gallantly ran the Veer Offense. We got two yards and a cloud of dust nearly every play, but rarely a first down. Being young and somewhat naive, we all hoped for the best every weekend, but deep in our hearts we knew that John Forcade was going to be running for his life on Saturday afternoon.

In mid-October, ‘that’ game was scheduled. It was ‘that game’ because it was LSU and as we all know, LSU sucks. This game would be played in Corn-dog Heaven and broadcast nationwide, in living color, on TV. I was the only guy on the Seventh Floor with a TV, so naturally a party was planned for my room. My room was a little unique in that not only did I have a 12 inch black and white TV and cable, but I also had a small refrigerator and an antique barber’s chair. It was an amazing feat of engineering and brute strength by which I got the chair to my Seventh Floor room, but there it was in full glory. Most afternoons at 4:00, the better part of the floor would gather in my room to drink beer, smoke cigarettes and watch Star Trek in glorious black and white on that tiny screen.

In the week preceding the game, plans were made. A pre-game party was planned for Dave’s room. Dave always had great pre-game parties. A collection was taken up, and the purchase of a pony keg of Budweiser was arranged. A wide variety of chips were collected and some hard liquor was acquired. Stewart was responsible for making sure all the fire extinguishers were filled and ready. We sometimes used the fire extinguishers for celebratory functions.

Finally, game day arrived. It was a night game, so the pre-game party began at Dave’s room at 9:30 or 10:00AM Saturday. Remember, we are Ole Miss. We are professionals.

When game time arrived we were ready, but unfortunately our team was not. Ole Miss, on national TV, was blown out. This was an ugly loss, and the indignity was not suffered well. We were all angry drunks, and needing to vent.

It may have been my idea, or it may have been Dave’s idea, or even Major’s idea but somehow we decided that calling the Governor of Louisiana and expressing our displeasure was a good idea. It took a little work, but we got the number to the personal phone of the Governor of Louisiana. Once the Governor answered, being a fair minded person, I saw fit to pass the phone around and let everyone at the party get an opportunity to vent to the Governor. I concluded the call by informing him that we were going to saw the state of Louisiana off, float it out in the gulf and sink it. Governor Edwin Edwards was well known for his wit and sense of humor. On this night, he was unfortunately not amused.

Having concluded the call, we turned up the music and the party continued for quite a while. In fact, it continued right up to the arrival of the Mississippi State Police, the Oxford City Police, the University Police, and Dr. Jones, the Dean of Students. Seems they all arrived at my dorm room very eager to discuss the phone call to the Governor. Let it suffice to say that at that point, the party was over. Despite having a keg of beer, a half dozen exhausted fire extinguishers and who knows what else, miraculously, no one went to jail that night. Although I was not kicked out of Ole Miss, I no longer lived in the dorm. A whole new adventure was about to begin at Davis Apartments.

Fast forward twenty-five years. My children, Jen, Jordan and Catfish all had great grades in high school. They attended a pointy headed intellectual school in New Jersey, and had great SAT scores. They were very active athletically, each being named ‘Most Athletic’ their senior year. I was excited to send them to Ole Miss. Nothing is like going to school at Ole Miss. We may not win every football game, but we have never lost a party.

Mysteriously, Ole Miss never responded to any of my queries about them going to Ole Miss. They never responded to mail inquiries, nor returned phone calls.

In remembering this epic party, I think I may understand why.

‘That’ game is this weekend. I need to call Dave. We have a party to plan.

Hotty Toddy!

It get’s better.

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