Monday, July 11, 2011


"I'm looking for Ronny Elliott," the high pitched voice on the other end of the line drawled.

"This is he."

"This is Don Garlits. I wonder if you'd like to have lunch with me?"

So began my short term friendship with Big Daddy, one of my boyhood idols. I was writing an automotive column for the Tampa Tribune for some reason and Garlits needed his new autobiography reviewed. Damn.

This is the way my Forest Gump-like existence has worked. My heroes seem to find me. Over the years I have backed up Chuck Berry, Gene Vincent, the Coasters and lots of others. Elvis offered to teach me karate. Jackie Wilson showed me his scars. Sir Doug brewed some of his special blend coffee for me. None of this means a thing...except to me.

1 comment:

  1. Well god's trousers,, I'M sure impressed. Means plenty to me - I'd love to have all that crammed into the memory file in my brain. You are one lucky man.