...The Professor and Mary Ann...Here on Gilligan's Island
If you grew up in the 1970's you couldn't get away from Gilligan's Island.
First off, there weren't that many shows on television. We'd run home to catch cartoons or even Commander Tom here in Buffalo.
(It was the weatherman doing a puppet show).
So when we had the chance to see a real show...we were excited.
Everyone loved Gilligan. To a young kid, he was just plain hysterical...and Ginger was hot...but Mary Ann was hotter.
The Professor?
Well, we all knew he was brilliant.
How he wasn't smart enough to get them off the island was sort of lost in the translation. I actually remember rooting for their plots to fail so they couldn't get away.
And now the Professor is dead.
Who's left?
Ginger and Mary Ann, right?
Well, The Professor's death brings to mind the moment when I shook his hand. He wasn't thrilled with the fact that he was shaking mine.
My college buddy bought us tickets to a cruise around the Baltimore Harbor. The boat floated around and we helped ourselves to an open bar. The fact that we had been out of college for five years hadn't changed much...we weren't any smarter.
Open bar still meant that we got shit-faced.
So we proceeded to do just that. It was a beautiful sunny day and we hung out on the big boat, drinking, talking, laughing, drinking and drinking. They might have been serving food, but we just kept clanking beer bottles saying:
"There's a pork chop in every bottle!"
No way we were going to eat a big meal and waste that open bar.
After a couple of hours there was a crackle from the overhead speaker and a booming voice asked us to look over the side of the boat.
I kid you not...
...arriving in another smaller boat were The Professor, Mary Ann and Gilligan.
They were hoisted on-board and we were all lined up for a chance to meet them. I believe we all paid a small fee for the chance to shake their hand and get an autograph.
Fluffy and I ran to the line...beers in tow...and when we finally got before the trio we put on a real show.
Fluff asked Mary Ann to marry him.
We chided The Professor for not being able to build a raft.
Gilligan was in his hat, but he seemed to have little interest in my continued chanting of his name.
"Who am I signing this too?" He asked.
"Cliff Fazzolari!" I said proudly.
"Can you spell that?"
"C-L-I-F-F," I said.
Gilligan put the pen down.
"I can spell 'Cliff'," he said.
"Hey! Wait!!" I said. "Make it out to my boss!"
"Who's your boss?" Gilligan asked.
"Kevin O'Neill," I said.
"Spell it?"
"K-E-V-I-N,"
Gilligan motioned for the security guard.
"Ah, come on," I slurred. "I'm just messing with you, Gilligan."
"Gilligan was my character. I'm Bob Denver."
"Spell that," I said.
The security guard had both Fluff (who wouldn't leave Mary Ann alone) and me. He escorted us out of the line. I tried to apologize to BOB DENVER, but he wouldn't have any of it. Yet the one thing he did do was sign the picture for my boss. The security guard handed it to me as I headed back to the bar...which was now closed for two of the ship mates.
I couldn't wait to get to work the next morning.
The photo of the crew was signed...
"To Kevin O'Neal...from your favorite castaway! Bob Denver."
I handed it to my boss...a 6'4" burly ironworker foreman.
"He spelled it wrong. Gilligan is an idiot."
Kevin ripped the picture in half and threw it on the floor of the job trailer.
And that was my brush with greatness.
Mary Ann still looked good back in 1991...and the professor seemed like a good man.
Bob Denver, on the other hand...
...just didn't much care for me.
First off, there weren't that many shows on television. We'd run home to catch cartoons or even Commander Tom here in Buffalo.
(It was the weatherman doing a puppet show).
So when we had the chance to see a real show...we were excited.
Everyone loved Gilligan. To a young kid, he was just plain hysterical...and Ginger was hot...but Mary Ann was hotter.
The Professor?
Well, we all knew he was brilliant.
How he wasn't smart enough to get them off the island was sort of lost in the translation. I actually remember rooting for their plots to fail so they couldn't get away.
And now the Professor is dead.
Who's left?
Ginger and Mary Ann, right?
Well, The Professor's death brings to mind the moment when I shook his hand. He wasn't thrilled with the fact that he was shaking mine.
My college buddy bought us tickets to a cruise around the Baltimore Harbor. The boat floated around and we helped ourselves to an open bar. The fact that we had been out of college for five years hadn't changed much...we weren't any smarter.
Open bar still meant that we got shit-faced.
So we proceeded to do just that. It was a beautiful sunny day and we hung out on the big boat, drinking, talking, laughing, drinking and drinking. They might have been serving food, but we just kept clanking beer bottles saying:
"There's a pork chop in every bottle!"
No way we were going to eat a big meal and waste that open bar.
After a couple of hours there was a crackle from the overhead speaker and a booming voice asked us to look over the side of the boat.
I kid you not...
...arriving in another smaller boat were The Professor, Mary Ann and Gilligan.
They were hoisted on-board and we were all lined up for a chance to meet them. I believe we all paid a small fee for the chance to shake their hand and get an autograph.
Fluffy and I ran to the line...beers in tow...and when we finally got before the trio we put on a real show.
Fluff asked Mary Ann to marry him.
We chided The Professor for not being able to build a raft.
Gilligan was in his hat, but he seemed to have little interest in my continued chanting of his name.
"Who am I signing this too?" He asked.
"Cliff Fazzolari!" I said proudly.
"Can you spell that?"
"C-L-I-F-F," I said.
Gilligan put the pen down.
"I can spell 'Cliff'," he said.
"Hey! Wait!!" I said. "Make it out to my boss!"
"Who's your boss?" Gilligan asked.
"Kevin O'Neill," I said.
"Spell it?"
"K-E-V-I-N,"
Gilligan motioned for the security guard.
"Ah, come on," I slurred. "I'm just messing with you, Gilligan."
"Gilligan was my character. I'm Bob Denver."
"Spell that," I said.
The security guard had both Fluff (who wouldn't leave Mary Ann alone) and me. He escorted us out of the line. I tried to apologize to BOB DENVER, but he wouldn't have any of it. Yet the one thing he did do was sign the picture for my boss. The security guard handed it to me as I headed back to the bar...which was now closed for two of the ship mates.
I couldn't wait to get to work the next morning.
The photo of the crew was signed...
"To Kevin O'Neal...from your favorite castaway! Bob Denver."
I handed it to my boss...a 6'4" burly ironworker foreman.
"He spelled it wrong. Gilligan is an idiot."
Kevin ripped the picture in half and threw it on the floor of the job trailer.
And that was my brush with greatness.
Mary Ann still looked good back in 1991...and the professor seemed like a good man.
Bob Denver, on the other hand...
...just didn't much care for me.
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