The Gatekeeper

An Appaloosa Radio Original Story

In 1958

He graduated from Florida State University where he had majored in being a fraternity brother. After his college experience, he drifted into what for some types of people is the easiest of all jobs — selling.

Tony Bochs was a natural. People instantly trusted and liked him. He was not handsome, but he had an easy boyish smile and he always looked at you directly, never turning aside or evading. Easy to trust. Very likable.

Please sign here. Lots of places to sign, way too much paperwork to read it all now. So, sign here and here and her.

Congratulations! You are now a Florida property owner. Lot 117 C of the Whispering Pines Senior Resort Community.

Have you thought about what kind of mobil home that you would like us to move onto your property? Our affiliates over at Action Manufactured Homes have just the one for you. The one that you have always dreamed about. If you wish, I’ll drive you over now and help you get the process started.

They gave him award after award after award. Tony Bochs, salesman of the month. Tony Bochs, salesman of the month. Congratulations! Tony Bochs the 1958 Salesman of the Year.

~~~

His former fraternity brothers never understood why Tony would give up such a good thing and move to Los Angeles. All he ever told them was that he was tired of selling swampland to tourists. They laughed. That was Tony’s perpetual joke. What do you do for a living? Oh, I sell swampland to tourists, complete with alligators and mosquitos.

Selling lots in the Whispering Pines Senior Resort had been a goldmine for him. He now owned his own boat, was buying a house, and he drove a blue Triumph sportscar.

Yet, Tony Bochs had another dream. He had a deep sonorous voice. He dreamed of becoming a voice actor, doing commercials, and narrating films. His ultimate dream job would be to become the voice announcer for a gameshow.

“Welcome to America’s favorite gameshow! Where anyone can win big.  Featuring our host!”

Fill in a name. Maybe —  Jack or Pete or Bill or Clint or Johnny

“Tony, please tell them what prize they have just won.”

“They have just won a brand -new car from our friends at Gleason Brothers Buick! Buick the car of distinction. The car of pride.”

Tony Bochs sold his boat, cancelled his purchase on the house, and loaded one suitcase with clothes onto the passenger seat of his Triumph sportscar and began the drive west.

Los Angeles proved not to be the land of infinite opportunity that he thought it would be. After a few weeks, Tony Bochs accepted a job that was very different from what had been his Hollywood dream. He was hired as a student recruiter for a non-descript college located on Western Avenue, in East Hollywood, just down from Barnsdall Park.

One episode

Meeting Celeste

An Appaloosa Radio Original Story

When things were going well, when the computer code poured itself freely into its allocated slots, when the iterations, runs and routines worked to perfection, when all the bugs and jinks had been banished. That’s when he took off his shoes, his socks and his shirt and wrote code au natural. He told his colleague and life-long friend, Mike, that when his feet felt the “reality” of the surfaces of the floor, it stimulated the neurons in his brain, made things clearer, opened options that he had not seen before.

In the early 1980s, computer programming was still an activity of white shirts, Snap-On ties, and pocket protectors full of a miscellany of pens.

That was not Rick. It may have been him once, back when he worked in the Department of Defence, running massive IBM behemoths, but it certainly was not him now. Now, he was running his own operation, creating computer schools for kids.

The best idea that he ever had. Creating computer schools for kids! The market was unlimited. The work was straight-forward. Taking computer lessons from a book (that he had written) to a computer-assisted teaching design. Simple code. Nothing that complex.

Yet, there were only the two of them, and the project did have its own obstacles.

Last night at three a.m., Rick had a mental breakthrough. He knew how to solve a problem that had been plaguing them for weeks. He woke Mike at an ungodly hour and they drove to the office, grabbing breakfast sandwiches and coffee on the way. For Rick, it was a monumental day of coding.

For Mike, the work was arduous and, since they did not stop for lunch, very fatiguing.

At a quarter to nine in the evening, Rick decided to turn off the systems. He pulled on his socks and his custom cowboy boots which had been made for him during a trip to Spain. He buttoned his blue-gray silk shirt that he had found in Milan. And, in spite of the muggy, South Carolina heat, he put on his black leather jacket, the one he had discovered in Montreal.

He walked down the open stairwell, then across the parking lot, and over a couple of short blocks to the Ramada Inn hotel where a live band was playing in the Lounge. The Friday night customers were filling all the small round tables around the parquet dance floor. A lot more action than three nights earlier, and this time he had drug along his working partner, Mike.

He brought Mike into the Lounge, sat him at a round table, and ordered him a drink. In the 1980s, South Carolina still required cocktails to be served without alcohol. Customers were handed a small bottle from which they added their own. Mike dumped the whole bottle into his seltzer drink. Scotch and soda is not worth much without the scotch.

With Mike appeased with a drink, Rick appraised the crowd that had gathered at the Ramada lounge.

~~~

While the various personal dramas were continuing on the dance floor, the computer guy left his friend Mike and walked over to where the young woman in the white dress was sitting.

It was a frilly white dress that revealed nothing. Just the kind of dress that southern women would wear to their favorite niece’s high school graduation. Indeed, that is exactly why it had been purchased two years earlier. The family had gone to Atlanta for a graduation.

Not what typically what the swingers wore on Friday nights to area’s the most popular pick-up bar!

Still, he was attracted to her. She was extremely pretty. Dark eyes and dark hair. Tall and probably athletic. He guessed that she wore glasses but had taken them off when she came into the lounge.

“Hello, pretty lady. Would you object if I joined you for a while. I was noticing that your friend left you alone. Thought you might enjoy some company.”

One episode

On Commuter Bus # 73-A

Featured story for August

Many contemporary hi-tech employees ride express commuter buses daily to and from their work sites. Larry Connors is just one of the many. He is a numbers guy, a veritable filing cabinet for numbers, whose speciality is making fiscal projections, doing benefit analyses, and generating cost-to-price determinations.

Unfortunately, Larry is also a “quasi social isolate” who stares at his own shoes to avoid eye contact with others. As the story begins, Larry’s personal life has been reduced to doing his laundry, playing with his dog, and watching old movies on television.

One morning, when he boards his usual commuter bus, everything changes. He is no longer who he is. He is now living another’s life and he is a stranger in his own body.

Thirteen episodes

O.ss.K A-a ar 44-070-256,  Lauren’s “EeKK//”

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