Saturday afternoon I had a surprise celebrity chauffer waiting for me at the Austin Straubel airport. I was a little groggy so couldn’t quite remember where I had come from or where I was going, but since this was a dream, it really didn’t matter.
First thing I remember is the long Crown Victoria. It pulls up curbside and the passenger door opens. I look in at the mystery driver and who looks back at me? None other than the Jungle’s own manliest of mans, the one and only Jim Rome. Without thinking twice, I jump in – almost like Rick Moranis in Ghostbusters 2 when he boards the city bus that Slimer is surprisingly driving.
Louis: Oh, it’s you?
Slimer smiles, welcoming him in.
Louis: OK, but I didn’t know you had your license.
Soon, Rome and I were on our way along the dreamscape highway, while his radio show played in the background. Jim was explaining that he was using one of his vacation days to pick me up. He takes a lot of vacation, you see, because he gets a lot of vacation. Just as I was about to thank him, something struck me to the core on the radio. Someone calling himself the “Packer Ranter” had phoned in and was giving a take on the air!
“WHOTHA!? WHATTHA!?” I blasted incoherently.
“Hadn’t I heard?” Rome asked. The “Packer Ranter” supposedly had been calling in every day for about a week now and was “killing it.” I kind of went ballistic, telling him that no, I didn’t know this because A) I don’t listen to his show all the time and B) I was one-half the real Packer Ranter and C) the other was a close friend of mine, and there’s NO WAY that was Franklin on the air and that CONCLUSION) Someone was posing!
Jim, however, was more interested in something else I said. “So, you don’t listen to my show?” he asked deadpan. “Um, I mean, I do listen to the show, just not every day. I work during your show times usually. It’s good. I listen whenever possible, etc.” I said. But it wasn’t working. Rome had enough of my BS. He shot me a demeaning smile that said, “yeah sure, sport-o”.
And with that, the conversation (and potential friendship?) was over. We just drove the rest of the way (to Dark City I think. I had just watched that movie the week before, so it would make sense.) As we listed to the “Packer Ranter” on the radio, I couldn’t decide if I should be mad about this or not. After all, it was great publicity and could lead to more hits on the site… I then woke up in a puddle of sweat and anxiety.
No more tequila for this guy!
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