Early the next morning the sales staff convened at RAX Roast Beef. We had some thinking to do.
Charlie got right to business. “Joe, you’ve got to forget about VIP passes for your remote. It’s just not possible.” We all murmured in agreement.
Joe took a gulp of coffee and started looking weepy.
Benny said, “You’ve got to come up with something else. You’ve got to figure a way to distract her. Then, boom! Maybe you should bring in some kind of act! If you could, you’d be golden! Your problems are over! Boom!!”
Joe just stared down at his coffee, lips quivering. The rest of us sat in silence.
Finally, Charlie spoke up, “Joe, what about Box Car?”
“Box Car Willie? Are you kidding? Maybe I can bring in one of the acts I book at the truck stops, but a real star?” Now the tears really flowed.
“It could be OK, Joe. I don’t think Charlie means the real Box Car. I think he means, you know… the other one.” I asked Doug if he would get Joe a refill and maybe grab a couple of napkins since no one had any tissues.
We located the fake Box Car Willie some twenty miles north in Steubenville, Ohio hanging around a giant flea market/bake sale held for the benefit of some striking steelworkers. Joe got him to promise to show up at Chickie’s Used Kitchen Dinettes in a freshly washed set of overalls and a clean red bandana by nine am the next morning. All the fake Box Car, or FBC, as we salespeople began to refer to him, wanted in return were albums, hot dogs, chips, soda, and it went without saying, a solid dose of attention. The entire sales staff planned to show up at the remote to take turns fawning over him.
Because we ushered our Fake Box Car in with such fanfare, and because he hit the microphone with such gusto, Lou, the announcer on the remote never bothered to ask the normal screening questions. In fact, FBC did such a stupendous job, cracking wise, blowing his whistle, and calling the Ohio Valley into Chickie’s Used Kitchen Dinettes, people said they never saw such a turn out for a kitchen dinette remote, much less a used kitchen dinette remote.
But the regular WWVA listeners weren’t the only ones listening that morning.
The last-minute Jambo replacement for Mayf Nutter (the man who wrote and recorded the "Jamboree in the Hills" theme song back in 1977, but who had been forced to cancel this year due to a nasty encounter with a patch of poison ivy) was on his way to Wheeling and he was also listening to WWVA. In fact, he was listening with such interest, he asked his driver to make an unscheduled stop just outside of Wheeling at Chickie’s Used Kitchen Dinettes.
At first, no one noticed the big black Cadillac with darkened windows that pulled up in front of Chickie’s. But as soon as the real Box Car Willie stepped out of his town car, and struck a few poses in the parking lot, people took note.
“Hey, you must be the fake Box Car we heard about!”
“Have you ever been arrested for impersonating Box Car Willie?"
"Aren’t you afraid to stop here when Box Car Willie’s doing a remote inside?”
It took only one or two of these comments for the real Box Car Willie to work up a solid head of steam. He brushed past the hecklers and threw open the door to Chickie’s with such force, two of the more lightweight dinette chairs near the front of the store flipped on their sides. He knocked over a couple more walking back to our remote set up to see just what the heck was going on.
When the real Box Car Willie first laid eyes on our FBC he stood and stared for a few seconds, checking out his outfit, taking in all the details.
Then he started in. “I don’t wear a red bandanna anymore you fool! That’s for hobos! I dress more like a railroader!” Then he paused, and added, “Idiot!”
I was hanging around the storage area in the back of the store with the rest of the sales staff listening to Charlie noodle on his banjo at the time, so I heard this go out over the air, along with what came next.
Bang! Thud! Scrape! “Holy Mother!” someone shouted. And then a sound like a microphone hitting the floor. Finally, dead air.
Since the only reasons for dead air in radio are serious technical difficulties or a comatose air personality, and we had reason to suspect both, we made it to the remote set- up in less than three seconds.
Doug grabbed the mike off the floor and handed it to Lou, telling him - for the love of Pete, say something, while Charlie grabbed the real Box Car and led him over to the featured dinette, a set of Danish modern that could seat eight. I led our FBC out of harm’s way, way to the back of the store near the “Make Me an Offer I Can’t Refuse” corner.
Fortunately for all of us, Charlie, Grand Ole Opray veteran that he was, and the real Box Car Willie shared a musical history. Both started out playing for tips at volunteer firemen conventions, so Charlie could talk his language.
A rough translation of their conversation?
Don’t screw up this broadcast, just play along, and primo dates at Jamboree USA can be yours. After this conversation, the real Box Car Willie got that Wheelin’ feelin’ and took command of the microphone like the professional trouper that he was.
“We had you fooled by golly! Ol’ Box Car had you fooled! My twin, my what do you call it,my doppleganger showed up for me this morning here at Chickie’s Used Kitchen Dinettes, and I’m glad he did because Ol' Box Car was sleepin’ in, after a big night of celebratin’! That’s right! Ol’ Box Car Willie, the One and Only Box Car Willie is gonna’ be performin’ at "Jamboree in the Hills" 1982! So let’s thank my stand-in and give him a round of applause.”
The small crowd gathered around the real Box Car Willie cheered.
“Now my old friend Charlie here, who works as a salesman at WWVA, home of Jamboree USA, where I’ll be playing several times over the next year, dates to be announced, is going to accompany me on the banjo while I sing a few of my greatest hits. We’ll start with Hank the Hobo.”
At the sound of applause, FBC came out of the stupor he had fallen into, cracked a smile, and blew his whistle. He crept over to Charlie and the One and Only Box Car Willie and started to sing back up.
Of course, Chickie couldn’t have been more thrilled. Customers started pouring in as soon as the music started. In fact, so many people came in, the dinette salesmen stopped taking “ups”, a system designed to force salesmen to take turns and play nice, and instead chased the customers around in a survival of the fittest mode. With all this business, Chickie never even mentioned VIP passes.
Best of all, Joe got the cash for the remote that day, the full amount. Joe may not have been the greatest salesman in the world, but he was salesman enough to know it was best to ask for payment when the customer is most excited about his purchase, and before he’s had a chance to examine it too closely. In this case, Chickie was the most excited when FBC and the real Box Car Willie broke into two part harmony during their finale, Divorce Me C.O.D.
After that Jamboree in the Hills, things started to change for me at the radio station. It got so the guys helped me out on little things on a regular basis, and I always tried to repay their kindnesses.
Charlie called the Weirton Animal Hospital for me when the vet wouldn’t treat my cat until I gave him the name of a man responsible for payment. I was married at the time, but Charlie knew I made more money than my husband and was just as responsible. He set the vet straight for me.
Benny went to a car dealer with me and made believe he was my husband so I could get someone to talk to me about a new car when my AMC Concord died. At the time, a car salesman wouldn’t waste their time on a woman who showed up without her husband or father.
Doug vouched for me with the investment counselor when the man from Prudential wouldn’t take my check to start a mutual fund account, and insisted I bring in cash instead. His policy was to never take a check from a married woman in case she was investing without permission from her husband. The husband might put a stop payment on the check, and it wasn’t worth the hassle.
But I really knew I was accepted as a full member of the sales staff when the bar at the corner would cash my paycheck; a privilege afforded only the mayor of Wheeling, the on-air personalities, select sales staff of WWVA- Radio, and of course the real Box Car Willie.
Next, the Old Saleswoman tells a story about moving to the big city, in "Big Time Radio"
