My Brother, Mr. Mouth-to-Mouth - Scot Samis

If you are preparing for summer beach action and looking for a good kick in the rear, check out or "NetFlix" (verb) the film "Summer Rental," a low-budget early-'80's Rob Reiner gem.  John Candy stars, Rip Torn chews the scenery, and Richard Crenna is riveting as the jackass One-Pecenter whose greed and venality might scuttle Air Traffic Controller Candy's family vacation.

The film was shot in the Tampa/St. Pete basin and needed local talent for extras, so my college buddy Scot Samis, then earning a law degree at Stetson, answered the call of duty.  He so impressed Reiner and crew that they gave him a name ("Russ" rather than Lifeguard #1, #2, ...), wrote him a few lines and bumped him to talking head of the otherwise interchangeable and mute tribe of spear-carrier lifeguards who inhabit the group house next to Candy ("Jack Chester")'s rental.

Mr. Mouth-to-Mouth, Scot Samis, Esq. as "Russ"

Scot's moment in the summer sun comes when he and the gang of roommates charge out of their rental, underneath a jockstrap-festooned clothesline, and he stays behind to meet underage neighbor daughter Jennifer Chester.  The exchange mesmerizes daughter (and provides bedevilment for old dad Jack) when - carrying an inflatable doll - Russ explains that the lifeguards refer to him as "Mr. Mouth to Mouth."

Scot is now a respected lawyer in St. Petersburg, FL.  Well, I still respect him; while presenting a paper recently on "preserving error in the trial court for review on appeal," his wag colleagues unspooled a few choice scenes from Summer Rental on the screen behind him, to prank our unwitting barrister.

His recollections today nearly as crisp as the events were during that "busy" time, Scot shared this with me:

As for an anecdote ... the one that sticks with me is when John Candy, knowing I was a local, told me that he was going on the Pritikin Diet and wanted to go out for one last night of indulgence.  I suggested "Watership Down," a local bar that had a popular reggae band.   He was a classic, big-man raver in the Steel (RIP) tradition - - bellowing at the top of his lungs, buying drinks and even getting up on stage and singing a tune with the band.  I know this is a pretty mundane story, but it was nice to see that he was a good guy.

A Stroll Up-Hill

I'd never refer to him this way today, but I'm proud to recall Scot as my "Little Brother," as he was during the pledging and initiation period of early 1978. Now that he's a big shot, we grateful, aging New Englanders occasionally get to head south for a weekend of nightspot-hopping, and a full battery of Red Sox/Rays games courtesy of the law firm's excellent box seats.

And if I ever find myself in the Pinellas County clink, I have a friend to call....

Goodtime Academic Community Nonsense!

In our little college town, the Candy-colored clowns at the local bakery/coffeshop put on a Candy Symposium during inter-semester break a year ago, and I urged them to include Summer Rental.  We argued over the counter about whether Uncle Buck really topped Summer Rental, and although I think I knew better, the baker held the programmer's lever and proceeded as he wished.

Maybe next semester!