Shotgun Rider

By Bud Focht

Hi, my name is Bud and my wife Terry is my shotgun rider.

For as long as I can remember, the first person to yell “shotgun” prior to a car ride was awarded the choice seat, the front seat passenger.

When my kids were little and because enquiring minds want to know, I had to explain how that seat got its name, from the old stagecoach days when an armed employee, usually with a shotgun, would sit next to the driver and protect the passengers and their valuables from would-be robbers.

Country singer Tim McGraw had a song this year called Shotgun Rider and his summer tour was named the Shotgun Rider Tour.  That was Terry’s favorite song this past year. Anytime it is on the radio it always makes her dance around, even if she is in the car actually sitting in the shotgun seat. She really likes the beat (sounds like she is rating a song on the old American Bandstand show) where as I like the words.

I don’t ever want to wake up,

Lookin’ into someone else’s eyes

Another voice calling me baby

On the other end of the phone

A new girl puttin’ on her makeup

Before dinner on Friday night

No I don’t ever wanna know

No other shotgun rider, beside me, singin’ to the radio

Terry never wears makeup, before dinner on Friday or any other time, nor does she need to. She never calls me ‘baby’ either, on the phone or any other time, just ‘Buddy.’

Other than that, I can truly relate to these lyrics. I spend a lot of time in the car and it is always so much better when Terry is beside me, listening to the radio.

Ever since our kids have grown up (or ‘growed’ up as they say in country songs) Terry has made a lot of road trips with me.  She has made even more trips with me over the last year, since she began her rapid decline due to Early Onset Alzheimer’s Disease.  Any time I just run to the store to pick up milk or bread, Terry goes with me.

During those car rides we listen to music, something that is good for Terry. Something she can really enjoy. It is usually country music, since that is what she prefers, and Tim McGraw is one of her favorites.

Tim McGaw’s father was one of my favorites.

Tim’s father was Tug McGraw, a professional baseball pitcher with the Mets and the Phillies, who had a happy-go-lucky personality and an off center way of looking at things. He was one of the first persons to put things in perspective by saying “Ten million years from now when the sun burns out and the Earth is a frozen ice ball, nobody is going to care if I got this guy out.”

He had a very unique outlook on life, a life that was cut short at age 60 due to a brain tumor.

In my 35 years on the job, one of the best days I ever had was when I got to sit alone with Tug McGraw for over an hour, just “shootin’ the shit” as they say in country music.

It was 1990 and Tug was retired from baseball and working for a Philadelphia TV station. He would do “fluff” pieces or interview local amateur athletes that would be spotlighted on Action News.  We had a wrestler from South Jersey, a suburb of Philly, who was ranked #2 in the nation and was going to compete in a national all-star match in Philadelphia.

After a month’s worth of me pushing the story (begging) Channel 6 sent Tug out to interview the wrestler. The problem was Tug came from home that day and the camera crew came from the station and they were waiting for each other at different spots on campus. Remember, this was 1990, cell phones only excited in Rolls Royce’s. They were the size of a brick and they were called “Mobiles” and since neither Tug or the camera crew were driving a Rolls that day, they couldn’t contact each other.

But the unsuccessful rendezvous between Tug and the camera crew made for the perfect day for me. I met Tug when he arrived on campus and while we waited for the camera crew to show up I got to spend a good portion of the morning talking with the guy who helped the Phillies win the World Series 10 years earlier.

We talked about the 1980 National League Championship series with Houston, which is said by many to be one of the greatest series of all time. Almost every game went extra innings and Tug pitched in all five games.

I asked Tug about a perennial all-star pitcher who only spent one year with the Phillies in the middle of his career.  “He always had a cold, sniff, sniff, if you know what I mean,” I remember Tug saying, telling me the guy had a drug problem.

Tug told me that he was a marine, something I never knew, a marine that was not in favor of the Viet Nam war.  And how he invented the green baseball jersey he first wore in spring training on St. Patrick’s Day.  He told me he’d do anything, but was a little embarrassed after reading “Casey at the Bat” with the Philadelphia Philharmonic Orchestra.

He even showed me how he threw his famous screwball.

That truly was a great day at work.

Now, my best days working are when I am traveling for work and Terry is with me, my shotgun rider.  Sitting next to me listening to the radio.

In Tim McGraw’s song, he states how he doesn’t want any other shotgun rider, sitting next to him, singing to the radio.  I know how he feels.

Until next time, Terry will be with me on my road trips, listening to the radio, as my shotgun rider.

Bud