IT'S ANDY ON DA HOTFOOT CLUB!

Andy Herring proceeded me on air

at my second radio station;

his was Lenior County's ethnic voice

for the previous generation.

The old fart was all spit and no polish;

mike's open and he's rattling papers,

clunking carts, stumbling and fumbling.

Records ran into seconds of silence;

after all things, he invariably said

WELL ALLRIGHT THEN!

Andy owned a record store on 'the block';

he verbalized over every played song.

Taping a clean tune's idea was a crock;

freeloader should buy it and play along.

IF YA WANT ONE, IT'S AVAILABLE AT

ANDY'S RECORD STORE ON SOUTH QUEEN STREET

He talked endlessly on subject matter

that didn't make much sense to a white kid.

Wasn't supposed to. They loved his patter

as well as anything else that man did.

A M E ZION'S HAVIN' A FISH FRY...

       - or -

PEANUT'LL TAKE THAT OLD MOTOR APART...

STREW IT ALL OVER THE GROUND...AND PUT IT

BACK TOGETHER AGAIN AS GOOD AS NEW

his on air obituary column

VISITING HOURS ARE FROM 7 TA 9

and in the summer, semi pro baseball

GOT BIG DOIN'S TODAY AT T'A SANDHOLE

If he didn't tell it, they didn't need it.

Once he pronounced Pioneer Food Store

the home of ALLA YOUR BALLIN' SUPPLIES.

On hearing the term's updated meaning

he convulsed in uprorious laughter.

Then, as if on cue, the record ended.

'TYRONE DAVIS AND 'I CAN'T BALL...ER....BUMP'

Here was my first radio role model;

I was too self-important to know it.

Spent 13 years plying my vocation

utilizing all polish and no spit.

Rest in Peace, Brother Andy.