Dick Cheney vs. the SpaghettiOs

It was the summer of 1989, and I was biding my time before leaving Billings, Montana, for the renowned academic powerhouse Marquette University in Milwaukee. I was socking away minimum wages for my collegiate experience at Best Sporting Goods, quietly whiling away my afternoons selling rifles, lawn furniture, fly rods, and Weber grills. At best, I was an average salesman, but I spent half my time on the phone arranging to find a guy of legal age to buy me and my boys cases of Schmidt's beer.

Billings isn’t a celebrity hotbed, and whatever sightings there were reached mythic Read more