Harmony County

2011 & 2009 Winner of "Best Humor Column" awarded by the SC Press Association

The party ain’t over till they take the mug shots

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I went to a party the other night. Things sure have gone down a few notches since the bad old days. I used to wake up in a strange hotel room in somebody else’s clothes, wallet missing, a dozen fire weasels stampeding around in my head and having to send out for the local papers to figure out the town where I ended up.

I am now usually back at home in time for the late news on TV, can remember most of the details of the party the next morning, and not have to deal with a terminal case of Irish flu.

When I was defending freedom’s far-flung frontiers I remember a particularly robust soirée thrown by the members of my platoon. It was in Fayetteville, NC home of the dreaded Fayette Cong.

We all chipped in and got three adjoining motel rooms, a keg, enough cheap whiskey to float a barge and contacted all our lady friends. Think of the parties on “Franklin and Bash”. As usual my fellow team members and I were on restriction for some minor infraction, so we had to use Gate # 3 to get off post. (The post had only two gates.)

As they say about a supper on the lawn thrown by a local church, “A good time was had by all”. Since me and the boys were technically AWOL, the Army can be such flea-milkers about things like this, we had to be back on post before the first formation at 6 a.m.

As we were fumbling around looking for our uniforms and hats, etc we were stumbling over prostrate forms and other stuff. One of the guys said, “I’m going to turn the light on”. Out of the dark a deep voice with a heavy Texas drawl said, “Touch that light and you’re one dead hombre”. We got the message and disappeared into the predawn light. That was a great party.

I spent some time up in Amherst, Mass. If given a choice between two weeks in jail and one week in Amherst I’ll be the guy in the broad horizontal stripped, black and white suit.

The parties there were just slightly more exciting than a funeral. Nothing but political conversations all focused on how bad conservatives are. Well, I thought, ‘These Yankees can’t be all that stiffed neck. Let me throw them a real party’.

I pulled out all the stops; lots of beer, sour mash, my killer pina colladas, shrimp and grits appetizers, hush puppies, and a real bar-b-que brisket, 13 hours in the making. For music there was; Lynyrd Skinner, Allman Brothers, Charlie Daniels, Marshall Tucker, and when everybody was well oiled, Willie.

I am not saying that they were prepared to join the 2nd Georgia Calvary, but they were whistling “Dixie” on the way home. That too was a good party.

Now all I look forward to are the rather staid affairs of ‘chips and dips, chains and whips, drugs on the right and booze on the left’.© 2012, Jim McGowan

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Written by harmonycounty

August 10, 2012 at 4:42 p08

Posted in Americana, Humor

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