Panama60 breaks down to Panama and '60. The '60 is either my birth year, my age or my I.Q., all 3 can apply, lol.

My brother and I relaxing in the shade. That's me in the hat.


Summer of '75, I was 15 and a rebelious teenager. Bonfires and underage drinking were the usual routine for
Saturday nights. This particular bonfire bash took place in the primitive campsites at a local lake. Jesse, the older
brother of one of my best friends was in attendance and made a game of calling me "Red" through the night. Jesse
knew I didn't like being called "Red". Every so often, I would hear "Hey Red, get me a beer!". I would hand Jesse a
beer and tell him my name wasn't "Red". This went on for some time, until I had had enough of it. Then I heard it
again, "Hey Red, get me a beer!". Now, Jesse and I knew each other from school, but what's more is that we had
been paired against each other in some wrestling matches. I knew Jesse was quick and I knew exactly what I was
about to get into when I snapped. I reached into the cooler, grabbed an ice cold can of America's finest swill and
threw the full beer at Jesse just as hard as I could while saying "Name's not Red!". Jesse was on me in the blink
of an eye. My memory is that we went the full 3 minutes, but what I was told later is that Jesse had me pinned and
eating dirt in less than 30 seconds. I tapped out, Jesse helped me up and as he was dusting me off, everyone heard
him say "Okay, okay, I'll never call you Red again, .....Panama".

Why "Panama"? A popular song at that time was "Panama Red" by the New Riders of the Purple Sage. To this day, I
am still called "Panama" some 41 years later.

Disclaimer: I do not advocate underage drinking. I do not advocate bullying. I do not advocate violence.