Sep. 12 at 5:32 AM
Decades ago while living in a prosaic southern college town, I met a deep in the bag Toronto Rob looking Texas oil man in town to buy his wife horses and a farm to go with them. Assuming we were the local color he offered to pay me and pals to dismount our barstools and drink with him which we obligingly did -back then my freedom had a price- & joined him at the center table facing the stage. Not more than 30 seconds into the local band's Dead covers, he blurted out a slurry of incoherence from David Allan Coe, vocal lessons and an ever escalating demand to stop as he threw balled up wads of cash at them that culminated in him stumbling to the stage and handing them a large wad of bills to stop playing, but not before taking the mike, "Y'all, that's the last y'ull ever hear from them, I tell you what". When today's news reanimated our dead horse
$WBD shares I couldn't help but think of this story as thoughts of a gone Zaslav pranced around my head.