In trying to get to the reunion early, I forgot my instructions, but found the tin building on Huffmeister with the cars parked out front, found a convenient place for my car, and went in. I was given a cold beer and a clap on the back and felt the brotherhood as I went in, and was involved in a serious game of 42 within 10 minutes. It was after an hour of dominoes, 4 beers, and 70 bucks taken from 6 guys I had never seen before in my life that I realized I was in the wrong place. I quickly excused myself for a potty break, made for my car, and continued west from what I discovered (too late) was a wrecking yard. I knew I had arrived at the real reunion when I saw the Tin Hall sign, the limosouines, the personal and corporate helicopters, and the well-dressed stars of the airwaves being escorted into the building by heavily armed security guards. I quickly gave my dna sample, a copy of my FBI background investigation, bank account number, signed a surety bond to verify that I had, once long, long ago, been a radio person, and was permitted through the metal detectors and into the building. Wow... not joking about security, huh? All that to take care of me, the only Houston air person ever to be shot in the face while mic-open on the air (true story). Well, it was worth it. Wish I could have met and spoken to every one there, and heard all of your best stories. As it is, I was happy to see my old friends, meet a few new friends, and shake hands with several legends. Still didn't get to meet everybody, so I can't wait to do it again. WELL DONE to all involved.
