The Time I Drove Back from Norwich University In A Boss 302 With Donny Cokebottles And A Backseat Mime...
Barrett-Jackson. Getty Images.Back in the early '70s, Donny had a BSA 441 Victor, one of the coolest motorcycles that wasn't a Harley. I still remember the split chrome and bright yellow tank with the red BSA graphics and the unique sound the single-cylinder thumper made at idle. There weren't many of 'em, and seeing his was always a treat.
Donny was a short block of granite who could run a football in the middle of the line or take it around the end, daring you to stop him. He was voted one of the captains his senior year in high school.
He wore thick, black-framed glasses under his football helmet, like the ones Clark Kent wore, but Donny's had lenses made of thick Coke-bottle glass that magnified his eyes, making him look incredibly scary, like he had X-ray vision. He looked like he could've been a villain named "Donny Cokebottles" in the 1950s television series, Dick Tracy. I always wondered what opposing defenses thought when they tackled him and got a good look at his eyes. It had to scare the shit out of them.
He arrived at Norwich University a year before me, in 1973, and when I got there, I lived one floor above him in Patterson Hall. I was a rook in E Company, and he was a cadre corporal in MP Company (Military Police). And he took his shit seriously—a real mil-freak.
Because I played high school football with him and we both had motorcycles, he was more lenient with me. When I wasn't sure I wanted to stay on the football team at Norwich, he told me he made the switch to Rugby and never looked back. I ended up doing the same.
Donny had a 1969 Boss 302 Mustang, which was his pride and joy. Once he became a sophomore, he brought it with him to Norwich. It was light yellow with flat black graphics. He fitted it with open mufflers that had a throaty sound. When he took it through the gears, you could tell it had some real giddy up.
The summer before I went to Norwich, Jimmy, AKA: Jumbo, a kid from Sharon who spent a year at Norwich before deciding to transfer, gave me a heads-up. "Donny falls asleep at the wheel, and he won't let anyone drive his Mustang. Be careful. Sit next to him and keep him up, or he'll fall asleep, go off the road, and get you killed. It almost happened a few times when I was with him, and he refused to let me drive his baby…"
The first time I hitched a ride with him came during the early part of winter '75. Kim was a Sharon girl who graduated high school with me and was attending Vermont College, an all-girls school just a few miles down the road from Norwich. She knew Donny and hitched a ride back to Sharon with us.
I told her what Jumbo said, and she was immediately concerned. I assured her I'd be sitting next to him and watching closely, that I wouldn't let him fall asleep at the wheel.
At night, the roads in Vermont are dark and hypnotic, and it's easy to drift across lanes if you're not paying close attention. I kept the radio tuned and the conversation going. Then it happened. Donny's head started to bob, his chin almost contacting his chest with each drop before he lifted it back up. When his eyes finally closed, I grabbed hold of the wheel and yelled, "Donny!"
He woke up, smiled, and assured me he was okay. I turned slightly and made eye contact with Kim, who was sitting alone in the back, behind Donny. She rolled her eyes slightly and took a deep breath through her nose, which opened her eyes wider, making it crystal clear she wasn't happy. Her non-verbal skills were amazing.
Then it happened again. Donny started to nod off, but this time the Mustang veered off the road. I grabbed the wheel and pulled the Mustang back onto the pavement, yelling, "Donny!" He woke up, but this time he wasn't smiling. He looked disoriented, like someone who shouldn't be driving a car…
Meanwhile, in the backseat, Kim was well on her way to earning an Academy Award with her non-verbal communication. She shook her head violently, and her eyes bugged out. She was telling me non-verbally that I had to do something quickly.
When Donny pulled into a gas station and got out to fuel up, Kim finally spoke. "Vinnie, either you're driving or I'm getting out. He's gonna get us killed!" I assured her I'd be the one driving the rest of the way.
When Donny got back in, I immediately said, "Either I'm driving, Donny, or Kim and I are getting out. You keep falling asleep and you're gonna wreck your car and get us all killed…"
He took a deep breath, looked at me, and said, "Okay." And then he handed me his keys.
When I glanced back at Kim, she brought her lips together, nodded, and gave me a short, tight fist pump in her lap, another nonverbal masterpiece that I interpreted as "thank you!" She could've been a fucking mime!
