Another true story:

            One Thursday evening (1960) the 4 amigos Bob, Bobby, Robert and yours truly took it into our heads to go to Terra Haut, Indiana for some cherry pie. The only thing wrong with that idea was we lived in Southern Illinois – the western part. Terra Haut was about 150 miles away. We went anyway, but the pie place was closed when we got there. Fortunately the bar next to it was open so we went in to see if they had any pie. As I remember they couldn’t find any, but we stayed there a long time while they looked. About closing time they concluded that they didn’t have any so we left feeling mighty blue and low except for Bobby and Robert who were in fine spirits. Robert was feeling so fine that we had to carry him to the car and let him stretch out in the back seat.

            With Robert hogging the whole back seat (he was a big boy) it meant that the 3 of us would have to share the front seat. Bob drove because he wore glasses and we figured he could see the best. I was in the middle because I never stopped talking (even then), so I could keep Tom awake. Bobby took the window because he was only slightly better off than Robert and might get sick. On through the night we went, with me talking, Robert snoring, Bob staring at the dark, and Bobby making some God-awful noises.

About daybreak we were nearing our home territory and Bobby had finally passed out half in the seat and half in the floor. When along the road came Mr. Jones, the bread truck driver and father of a friend of ours. As we passed and waved he gave us an unforgettable look of disbelief. We couldn’t figure what his problem was, until we realized that he could only see the two of us, and we were almost sitting on each other’s laps.

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 A Fine Kettle of Fish – Hickory Jack – Blue – Ace High…and now… Blue Norther

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