Lortz in the Nude

It started innocently enough.

In 1996, in my military training school at Fort Huachuca, one of my classmates mimicked a commercial of a local dive strip club called the Sorry Gulch Saloon. In the style of late radio announcer Jan Gabriel, my classmate inserted my name in the commercial instead of the name of whoever was feature dancing at the Sorry Gulch. Being that I didn't mind at all, and I have always been up for being the subject of a victimless joke, the radio call became one of the funniest catch phrases of my time at Huachuca.

"Sunday, Sunday, Sunday
Live at the Sorry Gulch
It's Lortz in the Nude!
This Sunday. Lortz in the Nude.
First 200 ladies get a free Lortz t-shirt!
Be There!"

After military training, I went to Fort Hood and never saw that classmate again. The Lortz in the Nude call sat dormant until 1998. Then, sometime during my Bosnia deployment, I dusted it off and used it a few times, usually to break up a boring day. Then, to my surprise, a flyer appeared on my desk:

Who was I to argue?

Then, a month or so later, this was created:

It was an epic performance. According to news reports, the event had to be moved to a city park as ticket demand was too high and several riots ensued among the Bosnian women who could not get into the hotel. Once the hubbub was ameliorated, the show went on without a hitch.

Shortly after coming home from Bosnia, I couldn't abandon my blossoming career as a performer. I had to flyer Florida State University and let them know of the show.

As you can see, the flyers are getting a little more complex, as was my show. This show, however, had to be cancelled at the last moment due to protests by the Student Body. Ironic, don't you think?

The night I graduated, however, I was able to perform one show in Tallahassee.

The level of pandemonium that show caused forced me to reconsider doing "Lortz in the Nude" performances. I decided to stay in Tallahassee, continue my education, and get out of the game for a while.

Receiving a letter from the Secretary of the Florida Public Endangerment Commission calling my show "a danger to society" forced me to also lay low during my time in Tampa. Working a well-paying job and the spread of picture phones and made me wonder if I would ever do my show again. Although the show was popular, the dogs cute, and the fire hot, I just couldn't see a reason to endanger my career.

Until now.

I'm back.