The ol' Fig Newton

November 15, 2011

7:30 a.m.

I’m in Andrews, Texas.  That’s in the panhandle.  Last night I slept in Lubbock, Texas, birth place of Buddy Holly.  And speaking of that, on another occasion I slept in Clear Lake, Iowa, where Buddy Holly passed into the arms of Jesus, as they say, over an abandoned corn field.  I was parked along the same corn field where he was killed.

It’s like I told your brother, Chris: it’s just another Mike Dugan Brush with Greatness.   I could write a whole book about it.  It would be all about me standing in a ditch or me with a bunch of shopping carts or me next to a corn field, but it all ties in with famous people one way or another.  Hey!  Remember the time I almost ran over Bill Nye the Science Guy on his bike and he gave me the Fig Newton?

No, I told him.  I don’t remember.

So he told me about a trendy little pub near the Fremont Bridge in Seattle where famous people like to have their lunch.  It was years ago.  He had just left work in a company pickup, and was only blocks from this trendy pub when he realized he had forgotten something.  So I wheeled into a parking lot to turn around and I’ll tell you (here his voice gets a little small and squeaky when he says) I was being a little bit aggressive with my driving.  Anyway, in comes Bill Nye on a ten speed.  We were on a collision course.  I had to slam on the brakes and kick up all kinds of gravel just to avoid killing him.  He probably talked about it on the David Letterman show later.  Brush with greatness.”

Also there was the time Curt Cobain was in my insurance office.  This was before they got super famous.  I was chatting with him about how he and his associates had been on this tour of the Deep South, wearing their grunge style clothing and whatnot.   You can imagine how that went for them.  You know, “Hi.  We’d like to order some hamburgers, please.”  “Get out of here you hippie, faggot communists!  Go eat your hamburgers in your home country of Russia!”

Note: "Fig Newton" is my dad's word for "finger."  When I was a child he might have said, "Poke it with your fig newton," or "Come here and hold onto Dad's fig newton."  Of course, in Bill Nye's case, we're talking about one Fig Newton in particular.

P.S. I learned today that Dad wasn't able to get home time for Thanksgiving Day.  So, think fondly of him as you sit down to feast.  He'll be alone with Big Blue, eating truck stop nachos and hard boiled eggs.