Posted: March 25th, 2010 | Author: Mark | Filed under: News | Tags: big ol tire fire, Brendon Walsh, decathlon, Jack Lemmon, Mark Stewart | No Comments »

AHHHHHHHH! It was a day just like this one, except it was April already, and warmer and it was raining.

An MMMMMMMMMM-Note

In the spring of 1969, I was training for a decathlon under Walt Rostow, along with Jack Lemmon and some others of LBJ’s staff. I was the horse we were betting on, the others were just to round out the team – for camaraderie and encouragement and what have you.

Me on the field of glory

The training schedule was grueling, but by late February, Lemmon and I had managed to put together the financing for a new XXX film loosely based on a book by James Leo Herlihy. Of course, by the time the picture came out, it starred Jon Voight and *Dennis Hoffman and was rated X. But, by then, we were sitting pretty on an island in the Caribbean with fifty $10, 000 bills and did not give a care. But that is another story. (*not a typo – Dustin gets credit for his look-alike cousin’s performances in most of his early films – yet another story.

Walsh; file photo

One particular afternoon training session at Rice Stadium had been going well until Brendon Walsh showed up to taunt us from the bleachers. Lemmon had finally gotten his forty under forty-five, so we were drinking beer and tossing the javelin. Walsh started yelling sissy this and pussy javelin that, and Lemmon, without saying a word, picked up a discus and chucks it at him. It didn’t hit him, but that was the farthest he’s ever thrown the discus, so the team was pretty excited and kinda forgot about Brendon, who was fetching the disc. He found it and hucked it back at us, falling way short and knocking over the Dr. Pepper cooler.

General Westmoreland literally flew at Brendon, who was already storming down the bleachers two at a time. A lightning bolt erupted into the sky when their bodies clashed on ninth row.

Westmoreland being a pain in the ass to rest of the world

Westmoreland was worn out from training all afternoon, so Brendon easily got the best of him. We were all sick of Wes’s shit and Cambodia by that time, so we were slow to break it up and we were all friends again within minutes, except Westmoreland, who went back to Austin on the bus that night.

The whole gang spent the night at Judy Garland’s house in West University, doing Whip-Its and DMT. Jeff Beck threw up.