Mouth Musings #1
Posted: Sat Feb 09, 2013 11:30 pm
It was the fall semester of 1985 at a small, conservative, liberal arts, Methodist university in NJ complete with a seminary school and replete with enough high and mighty administrative types to fill the cast of a National Lampoon college comedy. Somehow, I had managed to elude all standards, academic and otherwise, to be accepted the year prior. That was the university's first mistake. What they didn't know was that an even bigger one was about to follow.
By the time my sophomore year hit, I was already bored shitless of academe. Who the hell goes to college just to study all the time and get a degree anyway? I thought, "not me, that's for sure!" I needed sow my wild oats a bit and let my Tony Danza-style hair down a little more. Live a little. Maybe push the envelope and shake stuff up a bit to see just how far I could push things without quite going over the edge and getting thrown out...actually WTF! Why the hell not go over the edge?! You only live once, right?
In this photo: Me circa 1985
So the plan for mayhem was put into effect full force:
Join the rugby team, i.e. The university's version of Delta House in cleats. Check.
Head up dorm co-ed bathroom initiative. Check.
Set up and run fast food delivery joint on floor of dorm room (best Buffalo wings there ever were on campus)
Check.
Construct and operate bar out of dorm room selling alcohol as a minor, illegally to under age classmates. Check.
What I was thinking on this one, I still ask myself to this day.
Procure pinball machine and a contingent of female regulars to ensure repeat business. Check. Not sure how these
went together, but it worked.
Drive out dorm quad-mates who weren't on board with said plan and killjoys of anything "fun"so we'd have more
space to expand our business ventures. Check. It was the Satanic Strawberry Yoo-Hoo Cult Ritual we performed
outside their door at 3:00 in the morning during the school week which finally did the trick.
And just to make things interesting, do a morning comedy show on the campus radio station, and do shit that
would make Howard Stern seem conservative for back in that day. Check.
Only the last one, believe it or not, was the thing that really put it all over the top. My partner in crime and I wanted to create an effect to get us noticed, and it worked. We didn't set out to become public enemies number one and two, but if they could have plastered our likenesses on every public wall and tree of that campus, they would have. The show was a completely crazed, stream of consciousness format. We did totally improvisational bits, had guests in studio, took calls, and pretty much violated every known law the FCC had in effect back then since all there was at that time was terrestrial AM/FM radio. We were either universally loved or hated (not to mention known) by about 5000 students, administration, and faculty. In the end, something had to be done about us. I was spending weekly time in either the dean's office, and then soon afterward, the university president's office. I'm not quite sure, but I don't think any student was ever summoned to his chambers a la "The Social Network". The only difference being when the president walked into his office to meet me, he found me in my Jams Hawaiian shorts and clashing Hawaiian shirt and dark Blues Brothers sunglasses sitting behind his desk with my feet up. I don't think I need to tell you how the conversation/ultimatum went from there. Needless to say he was a bit peeved and wanted to make an example of me and my roommate. Screw "double-secret probation", he went for the gusto. He brought us up on charges of violating the university's human rights policy. I checked my student handbook. Yup, as I suspected. It was as bad as it sounded. Definitely something to be terminally expelled over if so convicted at a judicial board trial which was soon to convene. We were getting screwed, and fast...and to make matters worse, the bastard booted us from our radio show. Now I was really getting upset. So channeling my inner Daffy Duck, I thought to myself, "Of course you know this means war!"
Next came the media frenzy. It didn't take long before they descended on the campus like a swarm of angry hornets. After all, two poor, young kids just trying to get an education and a fair shake like everyone else were having their First Amendment rights infringed upon...and in a supposedly liberal arts environment. Well, at least that's how I spun it. And it worked! We were in the newspapers, television, and radio almost daily for a week in advance of our trial, and the university sure wasn't liking the all this type of publicity, that's for sure. The day of the actual trial (which ended up being the longest in university history still to this day...maybe because they just don't have that many...or maybe it was just me. Who knows? ), there were scores of media camped out outside the building to see how it would all turn out. I would like to say that we were allowed some sort of formal, legal representation, or even an Eric Stratton-type from the student body who was studying pre-med, but we didn't have that much foresight. We were too busy doing interviews and basking in all of our notoriety to think that far ahead. Hell, we didn't even think to round up a bunch of drunken rugby players who were on our side to have them sit in during the hearings and interject with timely "eat me's!" and "blow jobs!"as the situation called for. We were on our own.
So for over four long hours, perhaps more, the hearing went on. We stopped recording on our boom box after we went through the four, 60 minute TDK cassette tapes that we had brought along with us to memorialize the proceedings. We just sat through what amounted to parading every single person that we had ever offended in some way in the faculty, administration, and student body stepping up to the podium with a prepared statement to lambaste us in some way for all of our shenanigans. So it was like a personal invitation to show up to our stoning with your best rock, and take a shot. It was classic stuff. We ate it up, and they couldn't figure out why. I just wish those tapes weren't confiscated by the administration before we stepped foot out of the room. They would have made for some great entertainment all these years later. Too bad that the administrative building and hall of records where our student files and these tapes were supposedly kept, mysteriously burned to the ground about 10 years later. Now, now...we had an alibi, and we were a lot of things, but not arsonists.
But we knew all too well how this had to turn out, and we were right.
We were in the end given what amounted to a slap on the wrist. A written reprimand that went into our permanent record (now toast, see preceding). We were found guilty (go figure), but we were not expelled, and also given a second chance now that we had seen and heard the error of our ways. The university was spared a potential huge, black eye and a firestorm of controversy involving the First Amendment of the US Constitution. They had no intention of fighting that legal and public relations nightmare. So after the media, the students, the faculty, the administration, and oh yeah, our parents calmed down, we were able to resume our [cough] studies, which we eventually got around to. We even got our radio show back, and toned it down a bit in line with the "politically correct" movement that was taking hold in society. The days of Andrew Dice Clay, Morton Downey, Jr., and the like were coming to an end. The funny thing is we branched out into publishing on campus to what amounted to our own version of a National Lampoon and Mad Magazine when radio just wasn't enough. This publication in and of itself caused it's own furor in the months that followed, but by the time the next year rolled around, I think they just gave up on fighting us. The dean, the university president, and a couple of others of the prominent administration either retired or took other positions after the scandal. It was rumored that was under pressure from the board of trustees for the inept and incompetent manner that the whole fiasco went down, but no one knew for sure. We were able to break in the new dean and university president just fine so there weren't any further problems. Truthfully, the stuff that we pulled back then, if students tried that on campus somewhere today, they would be instantly expelled, arrested, and thrown into therapy.
All in all, it was a blast, and a learning experience of a lifetime. I have a hundred stories of this type that you just cannot make up, and enough material for a full length feature film and a sequel someday. I share this with all of you so you understand how my MTM skills may have developed. Of course I have since become a mature, responsible adult, law abiding citizen, loving and dedicated father of two boys, and a fantasy baseball fanatic to boot. Okay, forget about the mature and responsible crap, but other stuff is true. Hope you enjoyed this little glimpse into my past, and future "Mouth Musings" installments will be shorter, stream of consciousness rants on whatever comes to mind and fantasy baseball mixed in as I go. All in honor of my old radio show, and of course The NFBC.
Right about now, Principal Ambrosius and Vice Principal Kessenich are shaking their heads wondering why the f@#$ they just didn't get rid of me while they had the chance. In a strange sort of way, this whole thing is history kinda repeating itself, isn't it? Huh, go figure.
-MTM
By the time my sophomore year hit, I was already bored shitless of academe. Who the hell goes to college just to study all the time and get a degree anyway? I thought, "not me, that's for sure!" I needed sow my wild oats a bit and let my Tony Danza-style hair down a little more. Live a little. Maybe push the envelope and shake stuff up a bit to see just how far I could push things without quite going over the edge and getting thrown out...actually WTF! Why the hell not go over the edge?! You only live once, right?
In this photo: Me circa 1985
So the plan for mayhem was put into effect full force:
Join the rugby team, i.e. The university's version of Delta House in cleats. Check. Head up dorm co-ed bathroom initiative. Check. Set up and run fast food delivery joint on floor of dorm room (best Buffalo wings there ever were on campus) Check. Construct and operate bar out of dorm room selling alcohol as a minor, illegally to under age classmates. Check. What I was thinking on this one, I still ask myself to this day.
Procure pinball machine and a contingent of female regulars to ensure repeat business. Check. Not sure how thesewent together, but it worked.
Drive out dorm quad-mates who weren't on board with said plan and killjoys of anything "fun"so we'd have more space to expand our business ventures. Check. It was the Satanic Strawberry Yoo-Hoo Cult Ritual we performed
outside their door at 3:00 in the morning during the school week which finally did the trick.
And just to make things interesting, do a morning comedy show on the campus radio station, and do shit that would make Howard Stern seem conservative for back in that day. Check.
Only the last one, believe it or not, was the thing that really put it all over the top. My partner in crime and I wanted to create an effect to get us noticed, and it worked. We didn't set out to become public enemies number one and two, but if they could have plastered our likenesses on every public wall and tree of that campus, they would have. The show was a completely crazed, stream of consciousness format. We did totally improvisational bits, had guests in studio, took calls, and pretty much violated every known law the FCC had in effect back then since all there was at that time was terrestrial AM/FM radio. We were either universally loved or hated (not to mention known) by about 5000 students, administration, and faculty. In the end, something had to be done about us. I was spending weekly time in either the dean's office, and then soon afterward, the university president's office. I'm not quite sure, but I don't think any student was ever summoned to his chambers a la "The Social Network". The only difference being when the president walked into his office to meet me, he found me in my Jams Hawaiian shorts and clashing Hawaiian shirt and dark Blues Brothers sunglasses sitting behind his desk with my feet up. I don't think I need to tell you how the conversation/ultimatum went from there. Needless to say he was a bit peeved and wanted to make an example of me and my roommate. Screw "double-secret probation", he went for the gusto. He brought us up on charges of violating the university's human rights policy. I checked my student handbook. Yup, as I suspected. It was as bad as it sounded. Definitely something to be terminally expelled over if so convicted at a judicial board trial which was soon to convene. We were getting screwed, and fast...and to make matters worse, the bastard booted us from our radio show. Now I was really getting upset. So channeling my inner Daffy Duck, I thought to myself, "Of course you know this means war!"
Next came the media frenzy. It didn't take long before they descended on the campus like a swarm of angry hornets. After all, two poor, young kids just trying to get an education and a fair shake like everyone else were having their First Amendment rights infringed upon...and in a supposedly liberal arts environment. Well, at least that's how I spun it.
And it worked! We were in the newspapers, television, and radio almost daily for a week in advance of our trial, and the university sure wasn't liking the all this type of publicity, that's for sure. The day of the actual trial (which ended up being the longest in university history still to this day...maybe because they just don't have that many...or maybe it was just me. Who knows? ), there were scores of media camped out outside the building to see how it would all turn out. I would like to say that we were allowed some sort of formal, legal representation, or even an Eric Stratton-type from the student body who was studying pre-med, but we didn't have that much foresight. We were too busy doing interviews and basking in all of our notoriety to think that far ahead. Hell, we didn't even think to round up a bunch of drunken rugby players who were on our side to have them sit in during the hearings and interject with timely "eat me's!" and "blow jobs!"as the situation called for. We were on our own. So for over four long hours, perhaps more, the hearing went on. We stopped recording on our boom box after we went through the four, 60 minute TDK cassette tapes that we had brought along with us to memorialize the proceedings. We just sat through what amounted to parading every single person that we had ever offended in some way in the faculty, administration, and student body stepping up to the podium with a prepared statement to lambaste us in some way for all of our shenanigans. So it was like a personal invitation to show up to our stoning with your best rock, and take a shot. It was classic stuff. We ate it up, and they couldn't figure out why. I just wish those tapes weren't confiscated by the administration before we stepped foot out of the room. They would have made for some great entertainment all these years later. Too bad that the administrative building and hall of records where our student files and these tapes were supposedly kept, mysteriously burned to the ground about 10 years later. Now, now...we had an alibi, and we were a lot of things, but not arsonists.
But we knew all too well how this had to turn out, and we were right.
We were in the end given what amounted to a slap on the wrist. A written reprimand that went into our permanent record (now toast, see preceding). We were found guilty (go figure), but we were not expelled, and also given a second chance now that we had seen and heard the error of our ways. The university was spared a potential huge, black eye and a firestorm of controversy involving the First Amendment of the US Constitution. They had no intention of fighting that legal and public relations nightmare. So after the media, the students, the faculty, the administration, and oh yeah, our parents calmed down, we were able to resume our [cough] studies, which we eventually got around to. We even got our radio show back, and toned it down a bit in line with the "politically correct" movement that was taking hold in society. The days of Andrew Dice Clay, Morton Downey, Jr., and the like were coming to an end. The funny thing is we branched out into publishing on campus to what amounted to our own version of a National Lampoon and Mad Magazine when radio just wasn't enough. This publication in and of itself caused it's own furor in the months that followed, but by the time the next year rolled around, I think they just gave up on fighting us. The dean, the university president, and a couple of others of the prominent administration either retired or took other positions after the scandal. It was rumored that was under pressure from the board of trustees for the inept and incompetent manner that the whole fiasco went down, but no one knew for sure. We were able to break in the new dean and university president just fine so there weren't any further problems.
Truthfully, the stuff that we pulled back then, if students tried that on campus somewhere today, they would be instantly expelled, arrested, and thrown into therapy. All in all, it was a blast, and a learning experience of a lifetime. I have a hundred stories of this type that you just cannot make up, and enough material for a full length feature film and a sequel someday. I share this with all of you so you understand how my MTM skills may have developed. Of course I have since become a mature, responsible adult, law abiding citizen, loving and dedicated father of two boys, and a fantasy baseball fanatic to boot. Okay, forget about the mature and responsible crap, but other stuff is true.
Hope you enjoyed this little glimpse into my past, and future "Mouth Musings" installments will be shorter, stream of consciousness rants on whatever comes to mind and fantasy baseball mixed in as I go. All in honor of my old radio show, and of course The NFBC. Right about now, Principal Ambrosius and Vice Principal Kessenich are shaking their heads wondering why the f@#$ they just didn't get rid of me while they had the chance.
In a strange sort of way, this whole thing is history kinda repeating itself, isn't it? Huh, go figure. -MTM
If I were you you, I would spend less time being enamored with what I'm up to, and more time cracking open the books yourself. 
