The Fields Parties

Back in my Kmart days there was a time each year that I looked forward to more than most. It was the 4^th of July and the reason I looked forward to our nation’s birthday was simply the Jim Fields parties. I have so many great memories of those galas, some of which I can actually remember. It is difficult to try to summarize those bashes. In a way you kind of just had to be there to experience it. But, I will try.

The parties were usually the night before the 4^th. The ritual included staying up all night consuming all sorts of booze and then without sleeping head to the golf course to be the first ones on and golfing eighteen holes while you were half in the bag. I did this more times than I can remember. The front nine you are golfing on adrenaline so you breeze through it. However, the back nine is usually a problem, but more on that later.

At the party itself, there would be music blaring in the garage and Jim would have his big screen setup in his living room showing flicks the whole time. He had a surround sound setup and it was almost like sitting in a movie theater. In the backyard the horseshoe pit would be set up and the grill would be loaded with food. Most years there would be a contest to see how many hot dogs Mr. White would consume.

Then there was the booze. One year in particular a store manager, Vic made some jungle juice. If you have never had the pleasure I don’t know if you should feel lucky or not. He made it in a twenty gallon Rubbermaid garbage can and it was stirred with a nine iron. I don’t know the exact ingredients but I can tell you it had a copious amount of grain alcohol. There was also a ton of watermelon, pineapple and cantaloupe cubes floating near the top of it. I didn’t have one glass of the mixture. But, I ate a lot of that fruit. That would be a mistake.

To put it simply I blacked out. I was out of my mind drunk. That year for whatever reason I was the first name called to tee off on the first hole out of our entire group. So everyone at River Oaks (where we usually golfed) had their eyes on me. I could barely stand straight let alone swing a golf club. I don’t like all eyes on me when I am teeing off sober let alone drunk off my ass. I tried to put on a brave front like everything was cool. However, my charade was soon discovered. I got to the tee box and that is when the trouble started. I was so wobbly and my motor skills were so shot that I simply could not place the ball onto the wooden tee. Instead of sympathy I got mocking and laughter which I totally deserved and would have done to any of my friends as well.

The rest of that day is a blur. Like I said the first nine most years were fine. But that back nine once the sun comes out and starts baking you is a whole other story. At a certain point you just want it to end. You are more trying to survive then golf. There was a hole on the back nine with a fence to your left as you teed off. I hit my ball and of course it goes in the woods. I line up another one same result. I don’t know why I didn’t just throw a ball on the course and take a penalty but at a certain point it was a matter of pride. I lost about six balls to the woods before I finally got one on the fairway.

The ride home was usually agony. With all the damage you have done and with a severe lack of sleep your body tends to just revolt. The short straw usually drove home and it was not fun. Every bodily extinct you have is to shut your eyes and sleep. As bad as I had it I never had it as bad as my friend Rob had it one year.

After going through all the drinking and golfing Rob was a mere mile or so from home and sleeping. However it was at this point when his car caught on fire. He pulled into the State Road plaza borrowed a fire extinguisher from a local merchant and then had to deal with the tow truck and all the rest while running on less then fumes. When he finally got home he slept for 26 hours. My favorite story is he got up and was mad thinking he only slept two hours. His mom then informed him that no he had lost an entire day.

One other little secret is that until later in life none of us were yet of the legal drinking age when these parties took place. Let’s put this in context though. It was the late 80’s. Things were much different. There wasn’t the mass hysteria there is today of protecting kids from any and all things fun and dangerous. I am not saying it was kosher for the adults we knew at the time to be providing us with booze. But, we all stayed in one place we policed ourselves and no one drove under in the influence. We had fun and if someone was over served we took care of the situation.

I have so many other memories from those days. The time Wally somehow while “dancing” was able to knee himself in the eye. Another Wally moment where he pulled out a camera and some dude we have no clue to this day who he was pulls a gun out and tells him to put the camera away. The time I was able to talk a certain K Mart girl into playing strip poker. (I won’t go into any more details then that.) I am sure I am missing a number of other great stories and memories but to be perfectly honest most years I was sober for about the first ten minutes I walked in the door and it was all downhill from there. Like most of my youth adventures at my time at Moraine and Kmart I look back with fondness and just a bit of amazement at what we did.