It's important to remember our roots. Tossing discs around has always been a sure sign of a little craziness. It's fun...it's irreverent...it's a diversion: a bit disconnected from the real world.
People have always enjoyed the craziness of scaling disc-shaped objects. But, it took a fun-loving teenager named Fred Morrison to realize while tossing cake pans with his girlfriend on a Southern California beach in 1937 that there could be profits gained from this behavior. First he designed the Flyin-Saucer and then the Pluto Platter...archetype of all modern flying discs.
In honor of Fred's death one year ago today (2/9/10), I pass on a never-before-in-print story that he told me while we were writing our book. It's about a large painting I saw in his home that used to hang on a lobby wall in the luxury motel he once owned in downtown Richfield, UT in the mid-1980s. You may have heard about how he sold his early flying discs by telling people they flew on "invisible strings," that his Pluto Platters were endorsed by "Admiral Asteroid, Conqueror on the Cosmic All," and seen pictures of him dressed in a spaceman outfit, but if that's not enough to convince you of the zaniness of his mind, read on...
I used to tell the bus loads of foreigners, as they assembled in the motel lobby waiting to pay for their lunches, the saga of Claud “Kick-a-Rock” Snought, Richfield, UT’s only claim to a major outlaw fame. The bus’s translator translated. The tale was told under the large, framed picture of Claud “Kick-a-Rock” Snought (seen below). Here’s how the story went.
“Kick-a-Rock” was my great-grandfather and known throughout the west as the “Spreader of Dread”. Reward posters offered as much as two dollars, DEAD OR ALIVE.
Conversely, “Kick-a-Rock” had a way with the western women. They considered him to be “The Creator of Joy.” Snought’s “get” is responsible for all the Snoughts in the Utah phone books.
Ironically, “Kick-a-Rock” was lynched by the only known all-women posse. No trees being available the rope around his neck was attached to the base of a large sage brush and a horse then pulled on his feet. Claud “Kick-a-Rock” Snought died all strung out.
Would you believe, told with a straight face, the foreigners hung on every word, except for one or two that recognized the picture was me, winked knowingly at me, and didn’t interrupt. What the hell... I’d do anything for a laugh.
I sure miss the crazy old coot! In honor of Fred, do something a little crazy today!
