On The Fly

In this episode, Why the 'Stupid' Choice Was the Only One That Mattered. It was the summer of 1982. I was on my knees in the humid Illinois heat, waxing the fender of a restored 1932 Plymouth Coupe. To the passerby on the Macomb Square, I looked like a failure. Here was a guy who had studied physics, computer programming, and calculus, now sweating through his shirt as a "gopher" for Bob Melton. And Bob? Bob was an event. Picture a man who dressed like one of Red Skelton’s characters—not the monologue version, but the sketch comedy version. We’re talking a sport coat, clashing slacks, a tie wide enough to land a plane on, and white shoes. His wife was the fashion queen of Macomb; Bob was, shall we say, not the fashion king. He was the wealthiest man in town, a lawyer, and a "lovable character" with a well-known thirst. At Christmas, while other shops played "Silent Night," Bob blasted Louis Armstrong’s raspy jazz trumpet through the toy store spea...