In 1978 I took over a territory for Ralston Purina in the High Plains that included parts of Kansas, Oklahoma and Texas. The lion’s share of the market was made up of large cattle-feeding operations.
An up-and-coming band was playing bars throughout the south in the 1970s when a Macon, Ga., record producer decided they were good enough for the big time. He recorded a dozen of their songs and headed to L.A. to pitch the band to the big boys of the music business, only to find no takers. The record labels said one song was particularly hurtful to their chances. The song was too long and would never get airtime on the radio. Somebody eventually did give it playtime, and it ended up selling a gazillion copies. The song was “Free Bird.” The band was Lynyrd Skynyrd.