Even a "Lake Bum" Deserves a Proper Burial!

It’s now been three weeks since the current ownership of a local Grand Lake publication discontinued the column of one of the lake’s most notable characters, the Grand Lake Bum. Since there has been no explanation of the Bum’s demise, I can’t think of anyone more qualified than yours truly to eulogize one of Grand Lake’s more colorful personalities. You see, the Bum and I go way back….back to the good ‘ol days. As the founder of The Grand River Chronicle in 1988, I knew very little with respect to being a newspaper publisher, and some would ay I never learned a thing, but I knew one for thing for sure…I was a lake bum…a Grand Lake Bum. That was the phrase my old friend and former Grand Laker, Rue Morgan, who now resides in his home state of Florida, referred to those of us infected with Grand Lake fever and who headed to the lake every Friday night no matter what. Those were the days when the last stop on the way out of Tulsa was Fike’s Liquor at 51st & Lewis and we chattered back and forth on Citizen Band Radios all the way to the lake. There was Good Time Charley, the Do Drop Inn, the Rusty Nail, the Mighty Minute and more. Smokey Report: “Bring it on up to Bitter Creek.” Back door, front door and no cell phones, Face book, I Phones or Blackberries which hadn’t even been brought to the market place yet. The good ‘ol day, but I digress. Shortly after my pal Morgan had relocated to Florida, he called one day and proclaimed, “Man, I’ve run across something down here that would be perfect for Grand Lake.” He went on to explain there was a rogue publication circulated on the Florida beaches called “The Beach Bull” and its publisher was simply called the Beach Bum. It was adult caliber, complete with a centerfold, and the guy had to remain anonymous for self preservation. Simply put, there are few really original ideas, so we stole the concept and the Lake Bum was born….a product at least in our minds, of the oil boom days here on Grand Lake. We soon started publishing a somewhat underground publication called The Grand Slam, our version of the Beach Bull. Nobody was off limits to being slammed and the Lake Bum was the star of the show. The pub came complete with a warning label which read, “If you’re easily offended, turn to the next page.” The Bum was about weekly romances, beverage selection and consumption, the best party spots and the art of ridiculing any person seeing life any other way. He was the self proclaimed legal representative for Dripping Springs and the associated “Moon-Off,” Party Cove and Woodard Hollow. As I many times told those who criticized The Bum and demanded his identity, the Lake Bum is not a person, but a state of mind. Or should I say was? As with some other adventures of mine over the years, the Grand Slam provided more fun than profit and eventually bit the dust. But the Lake Bum, which in those early days I can now admit without being strung up was authored by me, had developed a following of sorts. We knew he was a little far out for some of our readers, but his popularity with many of our weekend friends couldn’t be denied so we elected to bring him to the pages of The Chronicle, subject to censorship. Over the years, the Lake Bum was authored by at least two other lake bums besides me and from time-to-time did generate a problem or two despite the warnings right there on page five. There are two instances the old publisher will remember forever. The first occurred on the annual anniversary date of the Supreme Court’s famous decision on abortion which is commonly referred to simply as Roe versus Wade. The Lake Bum observed, that on Grand Lake, Roe versus Wade simply represented one’s choice as related to your preference regarding fishing. One local church, the one I belong to incidently, promptly cancelled their weekly ad. The other instance related to lake level and the Lake Bum’s lack of concern for the flooding issues which occur annually in the Miami area as compared to the inconvenience for lake front property owners and boaters. The Lake Bum was virtually burned at the cross during a civic club meeting that week in Miami. The phone rang off the wall and I can’t say it was a fun week, but the Lake Bum’s column was closely monitored in the Miami area from that day forward. Make no mistake about it, the Lake Bum was an asset to our publication and there was a waiting list for the advertising space below his weekly column which endeared him to my heart. It was also an indication that advertisers believed the column to be extremely well read. And for the past ten year years or more, Mike Williams has been the life blood of the Lake Bum and even introduced political analysis into the bum’s field of expertise. The Lake Bum’s column, “As the Dock Turns,” was always intended to be Grand Lake’s version of satire and it was for many years, but that doesn’t mean that authoring such a column is easy. Williams is very well versed on Grand Lake issues and incorporated those and his political wit into the column. But the author has to be well read and have a natural curiosity and concern with where Grand Lake is headed to even make light of them while conveying a subliminal message at the same time. In short, authoring the column would not be for just anyone. But better a dead Lake Bum than a phony Lake Bum. So, just as the Lake Bum’s old yellow Scarab, glitzy watch, golden oil boom medallion, love of brown whiskey and one night stands are no longer in vogue and have given way to health foods and Merlot for the heart, maybe it’s just better he rest in peace. See Ya’ Around the Pond!