This past week I've been slammed on the road doing a bunch of radio shows. From Seattle to Spokane, Wash., then from Boise, Idaho to Georgia -- I mean all over the map. Let's go back to Boise shall we? I had a pre-show performance at a rodeo singing "America the Beautiful." Then, we were all eating chicken and potatoes in a backstage area. The first bite I took gets stuck in my throat. And when I say "stuck," I mean nothing was going down or coming up! I start to panic and bolt from the table ... tried drinking water to push it down ... nothing ... water couldn't even get down. I start getting light headed ... can't talk ... can't breathe ... is this how I'm going to go out?? Now that I've separated myself from the crowd of people eating I have no one to help. Panic mode strikes again so I start hitting my chest and it's actually working! Some of it goes down and some of it comes up. Probably real close to passing out and definitely the closest I think I've ever come to meeting my maker. Now here's the fun part. Twenty minutes later I come back to the table and nobody had a clue what was going on. They saw me hurled over like I was throwing up from a distance and thought I was just getting sick from nerves! Sweet. Here's to chewing more! Talk next week! -- Chuck