Air Hockey Table

My parents did something amazing once. Normally the stuff they did was one step down from amazing. It wasn’t their fault. We were not rich and they always bought what they could and not what we wanted. They bought the Sears Atari knock off when they could have bought the original. They bought the TI-99/4A computer when we could have had an IBM. They bought an Apple //c when we could have had an PC. You get my drift.

One year they bought something awesome. They bought an air hockey table. It might have been used (some dents and some larger dents filled with bondo,) but it worked great. We would play for hours. I think I was born with six fingers, but luckily I lost one of them on the air hockey table, so now I look normal.

One weekend, my buddy Russ got to spend the night. Russ and I did a lot of spending the night at each other’s house. It was great when I got to go to his house because I got to watch Monty Python and Benny Hill. At my house, we got to play air hockey.

During one morning at my house, we decided to play a game of air hockey. I’m not sure if it was the corn flakes for breakfast or the pizza we had the night before, but something crept through my bowels and waited to pounce.

During a very hard fought game, I let loose a very quiet, but very deadly fart. It left my butt, snuck through my dirty underwear and pajamas. Right before escaping unto the world it was pulled back under the table and into the fan that sucked air up and through the hundreds of holes in the air hockey table surface. As it was a hard fought game, Russ was bent over the field, intent on winning. The fart was pulled up and pushed right into Russ’ face.

Here is where I mention that Russ had a weak stomach.

Russ puked. First on the table and then on to the floor. The air didn’t mind having puke on the table so it just kept on bubbling through. Yeah. Gross.

I ran downstairs and got mom. We unplugged the table and cleaned it up. Unto this day, Russ will swear that the Devil himself crawled up his nose and pulled forth the vomit from his gut the stench was so bad.

The table withstood the vomit and only lost its value with its legs buckled under the constant leaning and smashing it had to endure. We tried propping it up under some chairs, but they were never even and someone always got the uphill bonus.

My son, Greg, and I play air hockey when ever we get the opportunity. Sometimes, Russ is there with his kid and we watch them play. I know what we both are thinking.

Andyman Fund

It wasn't until after I gave $5 to the Andyman fund that it all became very real. I didn't know the guy at all, but it seems that many did or felt a strong connection to the man.

So if you get a chance... drop his family a buck or two. Go to http://www.cd101.com/andyman/ and click on the PayPal link under his photo.

I think some DJs of CD101 said it best... pretend like you are buying him a drink. The same drink he would have bought you, not expecting one back.

My Only Andyman Story

It seems like everyone has two or three stories about Andyman from CD101. He was everywhere Columbus and people gravitated towards his exuberantly friendly personality.

I only have one Andyman story.

A few months ago, my buddy Russ and I ended up at the My Morning Jacket concert. Towards the end of the show, I walked off to use the bathroom. The line was only a few dudes out the door and I saddled up. I could sense people lining up behind me and that became obvious when the guy behind me starts talking to the guy behind him. When I turned to look, I could tell it was Andyman. I had not seen any photos of him recently and I missed the part where he dropped 200 lbs. I said, "Hey, it's Andyman!" Without missing a beat, he proceeded to tell me a story as we all shuffled forward into the bathroom. He said that years and years ago, he was standing in line for a bathroom with one of his crazy buddies at a concert. His buddy couldn't wait any longer so he just started pissing in the bathroom all over the concrete floors and on dudes' shoes. All the time he was telling this story, he was laughing and his laughing caught me doing the same. The best part of this was that we were using urinals that were separated by three or four guys and he just yelled over the top of them to finish the story.

I assume that every hour of his life was like that. No, not the pissing on shoes part. The openness. The stories. The contagious laughter.

Here's a tribute video from one of his co-workers at CD101.

Andyman has Died



News spread quickly this eventing in Columbus that Andyman had passed away. Here is the news from the CD101 website:

"It is with much sadness that CD101 announces the passing of John Andrew “Andyman” Davis – programming director and beloved dee jay at CD101. Andy was vacationing with his family in Michigan and tragically drown on Saturday evening. Andy is survived by his wife, Molly, and their three sons Johnny, Oliver, and Sammy.

Andyman Davis started at CD101 in June of 1991 as on on-air personality and became CD101’s Programming Director in 1998. Andyman was the voice of CD101’s afternoon drive program and was voted Columbus’ favorite DJ on numerous occasions.

No further details regarding Andyman’s memorial services are available at this time but information will be announced as it is made available."


On Friday afternoon's, Andyman would do a bit called, "Taking Calls" where he would answer the phones and let people say whatever they wanted for a few seconds. At the end of the bit, he would play the Beer Song by Asylum Street Spankers. My kids sing the "beer, beer, beer, beer, we love beer" part.

You will be missed, Andyman, and never replaced.



John is a Good Friend

My friend John is getting married this weekend. I can only hope that at sometime in your life you get to have a friend as fiercely loyal and genuine as John. John is my friend for several reasons. I will only include the ones that will ensure that his wedding actually happens and that my divorce proceedings won’t:

John wasn’t too upset when I literally stole a girl out of his lap at a party in his house
John has driven when I could not
John has paid when I didn’t have the cash
John held my clothes when I went streaking
John stood by sober when I was a drunk idiot at Outland on SEVERAL occasions
John drove to visit me in Boston and slept in trash on my floor
John has never said no
John has never brought up the fact that I never gave him $200 for the Amiga 2000 computer I “bought” from him.
John lights up a room
John never complains
John will lend you his last dollar and take out a loan if you need another
John loves my kids
John doesn’t mind (too much) when you fall through his roof
John always has a place for you to sleep if you need to crash
John will pick you up at 4:00am from anywhere
John will not hold a grudge
John spent 12 days in Paris with me and we are both still alive
John agreed to pick me up at the Columbus airport and then drove over to Dayton to get me when I fucked my flights up
John bought me doughnuts and it saved me from a bad case of the herpes
John remembers my stories when I do not
John laughs at my jokes
John wants the best for everyone
John is there when you need him and he knows when it’s time to leave
John is a good friend

Good luck buddy and congratulations!




Equipped with full breathing apparatus

With budget cuts, "full breathing apparatus" means "holding your breath."

breathing-apparatus

Read the fat removal story HERE.

Dinner Table Questions

As a youth, I was a curious lad and asked many questions. Usually they were asked as the family gathered around the dinner table so that everyone could hear. For years we had an expanding table in our kitchen that was extended during the holidays. After a time, that table got beat down by four kids and needed replaced. Dad, attempting to get his WoodCraft badge, built a table out of two by fours, butcher block style. I distinctly remember the unevenness of the top and how hard it was to clean off with all the crumbs falling in the cracks. I assume mom hated that table.

As the kids got older and moved away, the two by four table ended up in the garage and a smaller table took up residency. My younger sister and I were the last two left and we would spend our evenings, after work or practice, at the table eating reheated leftovers. In mid-meal, one of us would inevitably begin to eat with our hands and the Barbarian Food Eating Contest would begin to see who could eat the messiest and loudest. We were 19 and 16 at the time.

Getting back on track...

Back when I was seven, while at the table with the family around Christmas time, I asked what was behind the door in the basement. I knew what was behind the door in the basement because my brother and I had been down there that morning looking at the hidden Christmas presents. The door did not have a lock, so dad put a nail in the top of the door frame and bent it down as a make shift security device. Steve stood on a paint can and turned the nail. We looked through the bags of stuff and put them back exactly as we found them, thinking mom and dad actually remembered how precisely the packages were stacked. As we left, Steve said, "Don't say anything to anyone about this." After I told everyone about this, we were told NOT to go in the room and that those presents could be returned. The next day when I went down the nail was not in the lock position and the room was empty. For the next week I feared the gifts had been returned. Christmas morning we learned that they had actually been re-hidden.

Years later I heard our teen babysitter Darla tell my brother a joke about 100 nuns and gasping and tittering. I didn't get the joke. One of the words didn't make sense in the context it was being used. I knew what the word was, but it didn't seem to fit. When I asked them, they said I wouldn't get it. At the full dinner table I got to ask, "What's a rubber?" I then got to tell them where I heard the word and Darla got to hear my mom and dad express their disappointment. Steve explained to me how to keep my mouth shut with a series of punches to the arm.

At our dinner table at home, I wait patiently for those questions to emerge. So far, Greg has only dared to talk about bodily functions and body parts, but I assume that one evening he will blow us away with a ringer.

The joke? It's still a good one:

Head Sister Maria called all 100 nuns in the convent together for a meeting.
"We have learned that a MAN broke into the convent last night."
99 nuns gasped and 1 nun tittered.
"And he left behind a rubber."
99 nuns gasped and 1 nun tittered.
"And the rubber was USED!"
99 nuns gasped and 1 nun tittered.
"And the rubber had a hole in it."
1 nun gasped and 99 nuns tittered.