(Editor’s Note: Memo from the Events Desk. Re: “Live Column” event at The Shack, Wilshire Boulevard.
Overall our experiment in “live” writing went pretty well and will no doubt be recorded with Beat-generation prose experiments. However, there was some small room for improvement. It was, for example, unfortunate that our “author” so quickly discovered the ability of the huge monitor to (a) intimidate fans from other areas and (b) obtain free drinks. We greatly fear that the power diminished his pure objectivity. For example, in the future, the Events Desk might suggest that our writer refrain from sophomoric comments, like “Buck-an-ear, that’s what, two dollars a head?” These are not generally helpful and while our readers from Tampa Bay no doubt enjoy a bit of good-natured fun, it could be that Mr. Dunn challenges their basic good nature.) Like most good stories, this one begins with beer. One minute I’m “researching” good sports bars for potential Miller High Life promotions, the next I’m agreeing to write a column “live,” in a room full of rabid Eagles fans, some of whom are also drinking the “champagne of beers.” (BEER BREAK) But two mentions of Miller beer is enough before the game actually begins … at least, it’s enough according to my agent, who should know and who also — suspiciously enough — hasn’t called me back in three days. Hopefully, he was telling the truth about the check being in the mail.
And now, on to business. Namely … (BEER AND BATHROOM BREAK) Tampa Bay sucks! In fact, not only does it suck, there IS no Tampa Bay. It’s City of Tampa. Though I imagine the bay might be a good place to drown the clown from Chicago who’s inexplicably rooting for Tampa.
After suffering two straight playoff trouncings at the hands of the Birds, Tampa Bay can’t be feeling very good right now. (Right now being just moments before kickoff — this is, remember, a LIVE column). I imagine Brad Johnson is experiencing that same sinking feeling the producers of “Bob Patterson” must have felt when they suddenly realized nobody EVER wants to see Jason Alexander on TV again. (BEER BREAK) Dave Mokus of Santa Monica just asked if it’s difficult writing a column live, with all these people watching.
“Nah, writing live is easier than Carmen Electra,” I told him. “Writing amid all these beer breaks, on the other hand …”
And speaking of drink, will someone please get me a shot of Jameson … quick! On overcast days like this, my alcoholism tends to act up a bit. (Shot of Jameson break) They CAN’T beat us!!!!! At least, all the beer I’ve drank is telling me they can’t beat us. And you know what else it’s telling me?
Good Lord, was that a fumble? A turnover already? I think so. High fives all around. Somebody started the E- A-G-L-E-S song, and I have to say we’re getting better as this game goes on. You know, the thing about watching a game in a bar is the same kind of communal experience that you get in a stadium, so what if you’re a few thousand miles away... the Universe is all connected, and for all I know there’s a whole theory of Quantum Physics that explains how my hatred of Tampa Bay becomes one with the hatred of others, and pushes a pass just beyond the receiver... and, hey, here’s some beer just when I need it, keeping the balance... (BATHROOM BREAK) You know, this reminds me of the time I scaled Mt. Everest without oxygen … or shoes … with one hand tied behind my back … yep, I’m a hard-ass, all right. But enough of me talking about me … Moke, what do YOU think of me? “Dan, you’re like school on a Sunday … no class.” (NOTE: OK, Moke didn’t say that, I did. But that one just kills me … it really does. Every time.) There’s a bit of a lull right now at The Shack. Could be pre-fourth-quarter jitters, or it could be that people are busy buying drinks? And speaking of that, where’s my Jameson shot? (GOOD-LOOKING WOMAN BUYING ME A SHOT BREAK) Dan Dunn 310-555-1976 … call anytime … preferably when after you have drank too much … Where’d the loud-mouthed, Tampa Bay-loving jerk go????? Just when it was getting fun … I’ve just been informed that the loud-mouthed jerk was “fired” — permanently — from The Shack. Some ugly rumors about his tab, but then word that he was honorable and paid in full — he just didn’t fit in here. I reiterate, THEY CAN’T BEAT US!!! 20-10. Beautiful words. 20-10. But, glancing back, it’s maybe one of those times you had to be there.
Originally published in the Santa Monica Daily Press print edition on October 21, 2002. Read the original PDF.