Friday Night And The Showman Is Feelin' All Right

Greetings, sportsfans! Bumpers here. Man, there is nothing I like better than a weekend. A chance to get away and not work. Of course, 1964 to 1999 was basically a 12,775-day weekend for me. But now that I’m back in the workaday world, weekends mean something to me again. Funny how life works like that.

I know what you’re thinking. Showman, why so deep today? Why so philosophical? Well, the truth is, I’m flying to Madison, Wisconsin to give a commencement address to a group of Badger grads, and it kind of has got me to thinking. What should I tell these young pups as they head out into the big, scary world? I’ve learned a lot in my day, mostly through trial and error, but I don’t know if everything The Showman has learned is all that helpful.

I can tell them that not all of the friendly women in Tijuana are actually women. Or that you should never score your blow from a stranger in an alley. But is a commencement speech the right place to tell kids "know your dealer"?

I could regale them with some great behind the scenes Hollywood stories. Like the time I watched Phyllis Diller and Bea Arthur get married on a yacht in international waters at the urging of Don Rickles. Or how Nick Nolte and Gary Busey are actually the same person. But will these stories help them in life? I just don’t know.

The good thing is, I’ll be surrounded by dozens of young, star-struck coeds that love to drink. Hell, I order a vodka tonic with lemon, and I look like James Bond next to some meathead from Alpha Pi pounding Natural Light. Don’t get me wrong, being a star out here in L.A. is great, but in a way, we’re a dime a dozen out here. Hell, I ran into Jonathan Silverman the other day at the car wash. And let me tell you, the kid still takes pride in his work. He got the whitewalls on my Benz shining like the day my driver drove it off the lot. But in a place like the Cheese State, star sightings are rare, and as a result, appreciated like they should be.

Being from the Midwest, God’s country, I’ve spent a decent amount of time in Madison. The streets there are lined with bars and young hippies. It’s like France, without the art. I just hope I don’t end up sloshy before I have to give the speech. Maybe I’ll do my patented Amazing Grace/America The Beautiful/Rocky Raccoon medley. That’s been knocking the kids dead for a long time now.

Well, thanks for letting me work out my thoughts in this article. Of course, you didn’t have much choice, so whatever. Now I gotta go hit the bi-plane with a shot of WD-40. I don’t want the propeller falling off that thing over Topeka.

I’m winkin’ at ya, and thinkin’ of ya.
The Showman