'78 was a great year for me and the little woman. Our boy was born in January and he was my good luck charm. It was my 2nd year in the business and my sales took off that year. Bear with me while I set this story up.
In October one of my very best buddies from college called me from Oklahoma City. He was nearly beside himself with excitement and couldn't wait to tell me that Hank Thompson was coming to the Tumbleweeds Lounge there in Edmond. He was rounding up 80 of his closest friends up to party and take over Tumbleweeds that night. We were invited to drive up from Garland and could stay at his house.
Well, he sure enough had about 80 of his rowdiest friends there with wives/girl friends that could get a little rowdy themselves. Ole Hank had come out to do his last set around 11:30 or midnight. He was a little wound up also and seemed to be having fun himself. I know we were.
And yeah, our group was beyond wound up except for my little woman. I'll never understand why, but Hank just didn't do it for her. She didn't want to leave the baby at home, but knew her sister would take good care of him. It's a damn wonder I got her to go.
It was kind of odd there was a pay phone on the wall right behind our table. I had a really great knack back in those days of drinking exactly the right amount of beer. This essential skill was acquired during my college years. I would reach the exact point where I was higher than a kite but not intoxicated. I've always hated the feeling of being too drunk.
Anyway, Hank played over two hours straight on that last set and it was a great show. It was as close to heaven as I'd ever been. At 1:30 Hank and his band performed "A Six Pack to Go". It was too much for me. I broke down in tears and I'm not ashamed of it.
It doesn't get any better than this and I had to share it since there was the pay phone right behind me. So I called my friend Kenneth in Wylie and had the operator bill it to my home phone. It was 1:30 AM and Kenneth was a little groggy when he answered.
"Kenneth, I'm sorry to wake you up but you gotta hear this. It's Hank T. and his boys doing Six Pack To Go live. Hang on and listen. Then I held the phone receiver directly toward the band. We went through this a few times. Can you hear 'em Kenneth, can you hear em? Hang on. He couldn't thank me enough for calling.
I got home and saw Kenneth a couple of weeks later. The SOB couldn't even remember it. I could understand though, to a point. Hell, it was 1:30 in the morning. I was disappointed he didn't recall it but I let it go.
In another couple of weeks the phone bill came in. I had called the wrong number. I have often wondered about the guy I talked to. I'll bet he remembers that call to this day if he's still alive.
In October one of my very best buddies from college called me from Oklahoma City. He was nearly beside himself with excitement and couldn't wait to tell me that Hank Thompson was coming to the Tumbleweeds Lounge there in Edmond. He was rounding up 80 of his closest friends up to party and take over Tumbleweeds that night. We were invited to drive up from Garland and could stay at his house.
Well, he sure enough had about 80 of his rowdiest friends there with wives/girl friends that could get a little rowdy themselves. Ole Hank had come out to do his last set around 11:30 or midnight. He was a little wound up also and seemed to be having fun himself. I know we were.
And yeah, our group was beyond wound up except for my little woman. I'll never understand why, but Hank just didn't do it for her. She didn't want to leave the baby at home, but knew her sister would take good care of him. It's a damn wonder I got her to go.
It was kind of odd there was a pay phone on the wall right behind our table. I had a really great knack back in those days of drinking exactly the right amount of beer. This essential skill was acquired during my college years. I would reach the exact point where I was higher than a kite but not intoxicated. I've always hated the feeling of being too drunk.
Anyway, Hank played over two hours straight on that last set and it was a great show. It was as close to heaven as I'd ever been. At 1:30 Hank and his band performed "A Six Pack to Go". It was too much for me. I broke down in tears and I'm not ashamed of it.
It doesn't get any better than this and I had to share it since there was the pay phone right behind me. So I called my friend Kenneth in Wylie and had the operator bill it to my home phone. It was 1:30 AM and Kenneth was a little groggy when he answered.
"Kenneth, I'm sorry to wake you up but you gotta hear this. It's Hank T. and his boys doing Six Pack To Go live. Hang on and listen. Then I held the phone receiver directly toward the band. We went through this a few times. Can you hear 'em Kenneth, can you hear em? Hang on. He couldn't thank me enough for calling.
I got home and saw Kenneth a couple of weeks later. The SOB couldn't even remember it. I could understand though, to a point. Hell, it was 1:30 in the morning. I was disappointed he didn't recall it but I let it go.
In another couple of weeks the phone bill came in. I had called the wrong number. I have often wondered about the guy I talked to. I'll bet he remembers that call to this day if he's still alive.
Last edited:
