CARTWHEEL CHAMPION

A few years ago, Gary was foolish enough to challenge me to a series of feats of strength. He knew I was already the #1 Chair Dancer in the United States, an accomplished street fighter, a poet, and an author (Love Carefully Concealed & Other Random Ironies by John teHaug, available on Amazon). He decided to test my will in cartwheels anyway.

Considering himself an afficianado of said spinning, I reluctantly allowed myself to be dragged into this fancy display. He set a date - we were working in a military Ccommand post in some awful backwoods region of NC. He began training under his hero, Lt. Colonel Jim Murrie. When I arrived at work in BDUs (fatigues) two weeks later, Gary was wearing a costume designed by himself and his mentor. Purple leggings were all the rage back then as were bolo ties but Gary was always a non-conformist. His pink, furry legwarmers dressed over his white hi-top sneakers and a pair of old blue gym shorts blew the crowd away. His upper body bare, with only a pair of Mork and Mindy suspenders stretched over his huge, hairless barrel chest made the crowd of mostly geriatric military folk gasp. As the Crisco glistened off his upper body, people in the crowd let out slight ooohs and ahhhs.

Now I'm not prone to hyperbole, but local tales BEFORE the contest were as follows: Gary was a huge man to say the least, at least 7 feet tall and 500 lbs.....his arms were as thick as tree trunks...with great shocks of red hair, as red as the fires of hell....but he was nice....a nice bloke....I hope he beats that guy, John TeHaug....

Flash to the contest: Suspenders a blaring, a whirling dirvish of excitement from the gathering crowds, one last check of his legwarmers and he was off....and then. He fell. Mortified he tried again and crashed into the wall. All I had to do was ONE cartwheel. But I did not want a disappointed crowd starting a riot...and so...I did several thousand to the applause of the crowd. Gary? Well, he blamed his athletic debacle on an inner ear problem, poor costume fit and a bad pick of music for his program ("We Don't have to take our clothes off" by Jermaine Stewart)...last I heard, he went to West Virginia somewhere.

I miss my friend. I know it's been said that it takes a big man to cry. And an even bigger man to laugh at the man who cries. For Gary, I AM that bigger man!!!