I am writing this journal from the passenger seat of the Carolina Traveler car. We're just leaving Charlotte it's about 7:45 AM on our way to Pigeon Forge, TN. Yes we're doing a rare out of state story shoot. I have one word for you: Zorb. Look it up on YouTube. It's hilarious and absolutely crazy. So naturally...
My journal today is another one of my cop outs. When I'm busy or tired or cranky or distracted or hungry or sweaty, I don't write a journal I post letters from viewers!
So enjoy some "We love you Mike" moments in the following viewer e-mails and my oh-so-snappy responses. Just thinking about this makes me giggle. No wait. That was a burp. Sorry.
I saw your recent video about lifeguard Ed McCarthy and although very cute, your man does not hold a candle to Lifeguard Reggie Jones. If you want to learn about the oldest living legend and active "ocean" lifeguard since 1944, read up on Reggie Jones of the Jones Beach Lifeguard Corp in New York. Search NYTimes or anywhere on the web.
Reggie is the man!
Check it out and let's see a follow up video on Reggie.
Ed McLoughlin (former Jones Beach Lifeguard 1980-2000)
Kings Park, NY 11754
My Ed, Ed McCarthy, is listed in the Guinness Book of World Records as the world's oldest certified lifeguard. Is it possible that Reggie is a figment of your imagination? Like you've told the " Reggie" story so many times on your vacations to Boca that even you believe them now? I'm not saying you're crazy. I'm just saying.
I do a thing called "Carolina Traveler." The first part of that title is a woman's name, yes, but also it's a word used to describe two states in our Union one North and one South though both are in the south. (And I'm not sure why South Dakota is in Canada.) But listen, surely you've stopped at "South of the Border" on your trips to and from Boca. That's the Carolinas! And as the title of my show indicates, that's where I travel. I would have a hard time explaining my expense reports if they included a trip to New York.
I do appreciate your spunk. I love a man who sticks up for his people, real or imagined.
So long live Ed and "Reggie."
P.S. If you find this response snooty or snotty, I apologize. It took me an hour to get my company laptop logged onto to my company system just now. It wouldn't recognize my password. So I have to go to a company website and change my password to exactly the same password before it will recognize me. We don't have layers of red tape, we have the earth's crust and then a 200-mile thick flow of red hot magma. It incinerates all technological advances. I can't even sinc my work e-mail to my iPhone because "Corporate" decided against that. We're a communications company! What the? I'm rambling. Give my love to your imaginary friend.
(P.S.S. The rest of you can watch my story about the world's oldest lifeguard on our video page. Unlike me it's endearing and funny.)
Yes, I can (sort of) feel your pain. My husband wanders around with that same lost puppy look because of the lack of sports in June and July. He's been reduced to watching hot dog eating contests, billiards, bowling and his new favorite "World's Deadliest Catch." So, thank you for letting me know that he's not an anomaly there are other guys out there just like him.
But take heart - we just got billed for the first installment of DirecTV's NFL Package: the light at the end of the tunnel just got a little brighter.
Peace be with you!
I wrote that journal, "Ladies Lend Me Your Ear," hoping my wife would read it. She also got the first installment invoice for my NFL Ticket. I didn't know, as usual, what about me was irritating her. I have a plethora of annoying faults and vices from which to choose. It's a crapshoot.
Here's one for you, I dreamed about the NFL two nights ago. I didn't want to wake. But when I did, I had found my center. I was at peace. Total consciousness. One with myself.
After your broadcast of "The Real Peach: Dori Sanders," what might have been just another quiet Sunday in South Carolina on a lazy little stretch of road called HWY 321 turned into a splendid convergence of North Carolinians, South Carolinians, and even some Tennesseans who had driven from far and wide to meet the author Dori Sanders and her brother Orestus at the family roadside peach stand in Filbert, SC.
Without any knowledge of your broadcast, I was simply making my annual trip to the Sanders' farm for an afternoon of delicious peaches and unforgettable stories. With gas at its highest cost ever and with the economy faltering, I was wholly unprepared for the sheer numbers of people that poured out of vehicles and swarmed the farm stand in search of Dori and Orestus, a friendly word, and a peach filled with summer's glow.
A gentleman from North Carolina said he felt compelled to find Filbert, SC, on his map and pile his family into an SUV just so he could meet what might be the sweetest woman he'd ever seen on television, and when he left, he simply shook his head and said, "I was right. You folks are the best people---just like I thought you'd be."
In such times as these, when every penny is being counted, the power of the human spirit can truly move people beyond their own economic hardship and to strike out on the road for an unknown location to find the heart of a genuine soul along a dusty road in South Carolina. In this case, your viewers were not disappointed; they were rewarded time and again when they opened their car doors and stepped onto a little piece of heaven in America.
Thank you for your story on the Sanders' family farm. The power of television is limitless as it reached a television-free woman in Durham, NC, and gave me a day I will not soon forget.
I could not have said that any better my self.
Seriously. Do you want my job? Don't answer that.
Thanks for watching,
Okeedokee, I'm done. We're now approaching Asheville it's 9:55. Yes. I type painfully slow. (Truth is I dozed off somewhere near Shelby, NC.)
But I'm up again and ready for THE ZORB! Lord I hope I don't vomit.