Let Me Off at the Top!: My Classy Life and Other Musings

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Disclaimer

Author’s Note

Why Write This Book?

The Boy from Haggleworth

My Hair

Our Lady Queen of Chewbacca

A Family of Anchormen

Breaking Horses the Burgundy Way

Photo Insert 1

The Best News Team of All Time

The Night I Made Love to Bruce Lee

My Love for This Country

What’s Wrong with America?

What Kind of Breath Turns a Woman On?

The Big Time, or When I Knew I Had Made It

Photo Insert 2

My Twelve Rules for Living Through a Prison Riot

From Hunting to Protecting: Burgundy and the Animal Kingdom and the Dawn of the Jackalopes

About Women

How to Meet, Bed and Marry the Woman of Your Dreams

My History of Mexico

My Favorite Doodles

I Dish the Dirt!

The Rest of the Story: The Nineties

How to Relate to Children

Where I’m at Today

My Final Thoughts

Photography Credits

Every word in this book is true. You can fact-check most of it but much of it lives within my brain. Fortunately for you my memory is infallible. With the exception of people, places, situations and dialogue, I’m like a walking encyclopedia of facts. You might as well chisel this baby in stone, because what you are holding is a perfect unchallengeable chronicle of American history and personal narrative. You are welcome.

It took me eight years to write this book. The research alone—fact-checking, reading the source materials, asking questions—was endless and I didn’t care for it that much. I just didn’t. But I persisted because I knew what I was doing was truly very important. A book is never the work of one man. Many people contribute to its failure, or as in this case, its success. Dorathoy Roberts at the Harvard Widener Library was instrumental in recovering so many facts and nautical terms. Janart Prancer aided my work immensely with her near-encyclopedic understanding of rare manuscripts in the Herzog August Library, Wolfenbüttel, Germany. Esther Nausbaum, head librarian at the prestigious Kirkland School of Dinosaurs, was instrumental in tracking down indispensable paleoecological records for
chapter 15
in this book. Herb Kolowsky was ever watchful and patient, reading over many drafts of the manuscript as well as cleaning my gutters. I consulted with my dear friend and lover Doris Kearns Goodwin over many breakfasts in bed. Her sharp intellect and sharper
teeth found their way into practically every page. Although we are no longer lovers because I don’t know why, her knowledge of presidential history is the basis for
chapter 12
. Her dogged enthusiasm for the project was only outpaced by her enthusiasm for lovemaking, which I could barely equal. I don’t know what to say about Doris really except if she’s still out there and she would like another bounce, I would be game. Johnny Bench was an invaluable spell-checker. Lars Mankike brought an artistic eye to the project and a kind of European nihilism that was completely unnecessary. We fought often and he got what he deserved, so I’m not even sure why I’m thanking him here, but it’s too late now. Sandy Duncan is full of boundless energy. What can I say about Veronica Corningstone, the love of my life? We’ve had our ups and downs for sure, and usually the downs were because of something stupid she said or did while losing blood. You really can’t fault women for being irrational. Blood drips out of them willy-nilly and there’s nothing they can do about it. It’s like being a hemophiliac. I suspect science will one day cure them of this blood-dripping disease but until then,
Vive la différence
. Finally Baxter, my dog and best friend, saw me through many tough hours as I struggled with my emotions during this project. His love and support sustained me through extremely difficult excavations into my past. Only Baxter knows the pain I have lived. Our nightly talks formed the basis for what you hold in your hand now.

Does mankind really need another book dumped onto the giant garbage heap of books already out there? Is there some pressing desire for the wisdom of a humble News Anchor in this world? Will it add to the great literary achievements throughout time or will it be lost in a swamp of trivial scribbling like pornography—devoured and then destroyed out of shame? I stand here (I write standing up) and I say, “No!” No, this book will NOT be lost! This book is necessary. It’s an important work from an important man. I was the number one News Anchor in all of San Diego. My name is Ron Burgundy and what you have in your hands is a very big deal. It’s … my … life. It’s my words. It’s my gift to you.

If the truth be told, I’ve wanted to write a book for a long time, but how? How do you write a book? Oh sure, I know you get paper and pencils and make yourself a pot of coffee and you stay up all night and write one. Seems simple enough, but it’s not. There’s a very long tradition of book writing going back through history all the way to Roman times, and if you know history like I do you understand that book writing is NOT EASY! Rule number one sayeth the bard, “To thy own self be truthful in regards to yourself.” I knew from the beginning, before even purchasing the paper and the pencils and the cans of coffee, I would have to spend a little time getting to know me. I’ve been so busy being Ron Burgundy the legend that I never stopped to really get to know Ron Burgundy the man. Before I wrote one word of this masterpiece I took long walks through the streets of San Diego trying to make friends with a guy I barely knew: myself. I talked to myself, that’s right, in bars, at bus stops, in laundromats, wherever my muse took me. I recommend it. Go out and talk to yourself. Record the conversations like I did. I had a small lightweight twenty-pound Grundig reel-to-reel tape recorder with a built-in microphone. A typical conversation went like this:

Ron

Hey, good friend of mine.

Ron

Hey right back at you.

Ron

What’s it all about?

Ron

It’s a good question, Ron. You ask tough questions.

Ron

It’s my business, I’m a News Anchor by trade.

Ron

No kidding, that’s important!

Ron

Yeah, it’s really nothing. I’m kind of a big deal around San Diego.

Ron

It sounds damn impressive.

Ron

It is in a way. It’s pretty impressive. Are you hungry?

Ron

I could definitely go for some fish-and-chips. Do you know where they have the best fish-and-chips in San Diego?

Ron

I do. There’s a one-of-a-kind sea shanty called Long John Silver’s that fixes up delicious fish-and-chips at a reasonable price.

Ron

Man, that sounds yummy.

Ron

Why don’t you join me? I’m heading over there now.

Ron

How far of a walk is it?

Ron

About six miles.

Ron

Do you want to discuss life some more while we walk?

Ron

No, let’s shut it down until after we eat.

Night after night like a ghost I walked the streets of San Diego holding conversations with only myself. Sometimes the conversations were trivial, like the time I got into an argument over which dog breed, Labrador or collie, was better at learning tricks, but sometimes they reached a sublime level of deep thinking, like this conversation I recorded while sitting on a transit bus.

Ron

What’s it all mean, Ron?

Ron

Sometimes I think we’re all crazy.

Ron

I know what you mean. I feel crazy myself sometimes.

Ron

I mean, what’s to stop me from lighting this bus on fire?

Ron

I know! But keep your voice down, okay?

Ron

I mean it! There’s nothing. What holds us together, Ron? Very little. VERY LITTLE!

Ron

Ron, you’re in your head too much. Breathe.

Ron

No but listen to me, Ron, the world is made of strands of particles and atoms that commingle without meaning, taking form momentarily, decaying, finding new form—senseless activity without a guiding center. How can we make sense of it? Burning down this bus with all these people holds the same value as giving birth to a child. Don’t you get it?

Ron

Keep it together, buddy.

Ron

I WILL NOT BE TALKED TO IN THIS WAY. I AM NOT A CHILD! I MIGHT JUST BURN DOWN THIS BUS TO PROVE A POINT!

Bus Driver

Do we have a problem?

Ron

Cool it, Ron. You’re making people nervous.

Ron

I DON’T CARE! I DON’T CARE! I’M GOING TO BURN DOWN THIS BUS!

Unidentified Male Voice

Get him. Hold him down.

Ron

I’M RON BURGUNDY! Ow, come on. CHANNEL FOUR NEWS!

Ron

He’s okay. Stop hitting. He’s okay … he’s okay, let him breathe.

I have over a thousand hours of recorded conversations with myself. What was I looking for? What was I trying to get at? I knew if I was going to write a book I would have to call on all of my powers of concentration. I would have to dig deep into the man, not the myth but the man, Ron Burgundy. To begin with I climbed Mount San Gorgonio, the highest peak in all of Southern California, and I called on an old friend, mighty Athena, the goddess of wisdom and courage, to guide me in this noble endeavor.

There I stood naked to the stars and the great gods above and yelled out, “My name is Ron Burgundy and I call on you, Athena, for inspiration! I am going to write a book. It shall be the story of my life, a great novel! I’m not sure
novel 
is what you call a life story. There’s another name for
life story
and I have forgotten it. For it does not matter! Brobalia! It’s called a Brobalia! No, that’s not it but it starts with a
B
. It is of no importance,
mighty Athena! I stand here alone, naked on this mount with these tourists from Germany”—it’s true, there were some tourists from Germany up there as well—“to ask for your guidance and wisdom while writing this Binocular. Nope, that’s a word for something different. NO MATTER! Bisojagular! Still not right but I’m getting closer, fair Athena, and thanks for your patience—let all the gods know, Zeus, Apollo, Poseidon and Hestia, to name only a few, that I will ask for their strength in writing this Braknopod. Way off! My old pal Doris Kearns Goodwin would surely know the name you give a life story. She was a real egghead, among other things. Anyway, Athena, just help me write this thing. I swear to you that I will remember the name people give to life stories the minute I get down from this mountain! Thank you, brave Athena!”