The Nuge

I first became aware of Ted Nugent back in the 80s when some clueless administrator at my high school — Hellgate High in Missoula, Montana — thought it’d be a great idea to bring him in as some sort of motivational speaker before a packed high school assembly.

Ted Nugent? you may be asking. Motivational speaker?  High school?  Is there anyone less appropriate to talk to a bunch of horny 16 year olds about the importance of shooting for the stars than the guy who sang ”Wang Dang Sweet Poontang?”

Like I said, this was Montana in the 80s. Not exactly the vortex of the lecture circuit.  It was probably a toss up between the Nuge or the guy who played Cooter on The Dukes of Hazzard.  And the school administrator who hired him was surely a relic of the 70s himself, trying to hold onto his identity as the Z-28 driving, mustache wearing stud he still fashioned himself to be.

Anyway, I remember sitting in the bleachers in my parachute pants and windbreaker, softly running my fingers through my permed bowl cut, when the Nuge took the floor.

I don’t recall any kind of thunderous applause. The response was tepid, at best.  I think most of us in the bleachers were like, “Who is that old guy and why is he wearing….so many feathers?”  I can’t speak for my classmates — as in, I didn’t speak to many of my classmates due to the chip on my shoulder the size of a meteorite — but I was very much into 10,000 Maniacs and Violent Femmes and Madonna and, yes, even Def Leppard by that point; I had no time for this denim-n-feather wearing Nuge character.  And he wore sunglasses.  Never trust a man who wears sunglasses indoors.  Never trust a man about to give a lecture in sunglasses indoors.

Now that it’s all coming back to me, I believe the purpose of the talk was the importance of not drinking and driving.  The reason I remember this is because I got the distinct impression the Nuge was drunk himself.

“SH**********T!!!!!” the Nuge opened with, by way of breaking the ice with 3,000 teenagers.  ”How ya’ll F**KIN’ doin’?”

A ripple of excitement swept through the crowd of rowdy teens.   A bunch of of us looked toward the principal leaning against one wall of the gymnasium.  He wore a constipated expression.

“Aaaah, f**k,” the Nuge continued.  ”I f**kin’ love Montana!  So many hot women!  So many f**kin’ things to kill!”

The crowd roared.  Applause erupted.  Ted Nugent:  Friend of the teens.

“Yeah, I see some pretty hot women around here!” he roared.  ”But sh*t!  You should see my 15 year old daughter!  She’s F**KIN’ hot!”

Shocked laughter swept through the bleachers. The principal had flames shooting out of his ears.  Students made cat calls.  The Nuge said a couple of things about trying not to die while driving drunk, then made his exit in a swirl of dust and feathers and was a folk hero of Hellgate High forever more.

Many years later, I had an opportunity to interview the Nuge for a magazine article.  I think he was hawking some product at the time — BBQ sauce, bullets, t-shirts, whatever, and I brought up the incident at Hellgate High.  ”Do you remember that?” I asked. “You, like, changed our lives.  You showed us anything was possible [voice heavy with sarcasm].”

It was the only time during the 60 minute conversation he fell silent until he finally said, “Ah, man, I can’t remember.  I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

Tagged as: hellgate high school, remembering ted nugent, ted nugent