I Wonder If Dan Quayle Still Hates Me
I have a story to tell you and it involves former Vice President Dan Quayle. It may sound like a whopper, but I swear to you it's true. Dan Quayle hates me. Bear with me, and I'll try to explain to you why. It involves me, comedian Bill Murray, some unruly radio listeners, Pebble Beach Golf Course...and yes, Dan Quayle.
I was born and raised in the Hannibal/Quincy area, but my radio career has taken me all over the country. In 1992, it landed me in Monterey, California. Somehow or another, I became the leader of a morning radio show on a station in Monterey (KMBY). We were crazy. Our station at one point actually convinced our listeners to dig up the parking lot of a competing station. (We buried concert tickets there and told the listeners to go get em!) Good times...good times.
Anyway...here's how Dan Quayle comes into the picture. It was 1992 and Quayle had just been voted out of office by the Clinton gang. So, Dan Quayle decided he would play in the Pebble Beach Pro-Am (in Monterey, CA). Big mistake to come anywhere near me and my radio show at that point in time...even if you were a veterinarian. Even bigger mistake for someone like Dan Quayle who had made the famous misspelling of "potato" a year or so earlier.
I decided to do my morning show live from Pebble Beach the first morning of the tournament. It just so happened that we ended up being there when Dan Quayle teed off. (What an amazing coincidence?!?) Enter comedian Bill Murray who also happened to be there. Bill Murray is a funny man. He's even funnier when he's at Pebble Beach. Behold.
Yours truly had the bright idea that it would be funny if we yelled "Potato!" every time Dan Quayle tried to tee off. So, that we did. Me...a couple dozen radio listeners who came out that morning....and Bill Murray. I quickly learned that Dan Quayle takes his golf game very seriously.
As I looked back toward the parking lot, I could see some guys in very nice suits pushing our station vehicle out the front gate. This was my first time meeting the Secret Service. They were not amused with our "spud yelling" and we were asked to leave. Meaning, we were physically thrown out of the place. (They even had a deputy posted at the front gate to make sure we didn't come back)