In the late ‘90s, the Source was nominated for a Drake Award for advertising. We were all delighted to attend the Drake Awards, an annual event that was put on by AdFed of Central Oregon and always had a fun theme. It was the closest thing we had to a red-carpet event in Bend, and the Source staff—mostly 20-somethings at the time—were not accustomed to fancy soirees. Publisher Aaron Switzer had decided to spring for a limousine, so we could arrive in style.
Dressed in our fanciest outfits, we all gathered at the Source office, giddy with excitement. And waited. And waited. And waited. Our limousine never arrived. Fortunately, Scott Donnell had a VW bus, so we all piled into it. There weren’t enough seats, so we sat on each other’s laps and on the floor of the van while Scotty D acted as our chauffeur. Upon arrival, we put on an impressive imitation of a clown car scene, stumbling out the sliding side door and adjusting our outfits in plain view of a crowd of Bend’s movers and shakers.
Inside the event, we took full advantage of the adult beverages at the bar, becoming increasingly festive as the night wore on. By the time our awards category was called, we had nearly forgotten that we had been nominated. As I recall, we won, though it may have been only an honorable mention. But to us, it might as well have been a gold medal. We made a scene and determined that more drinks were called for. By the time we left the event, we were plastered and overly pleased with ourselves. My last memory, before piling back into the clown van, was surrounding the ice sculpture and giving it a group lick.
Note: these are the facts as I remember them, which is not necessarily the same as the facts as they happened. But that’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.