Sunday Surf Party (3): But the Poster Says 1:00 to 4:00

3:10.  We were finished.  The Sneaky Tikis had played out what they had practiced.  The Lava Pups had done so too.  Glenn started to disassemble the drums. 

The Sneaky Tikis were autographing posters and fliers.

But folks were walking into the Capitol Bowl.  They were not there to bowl.  They announced to us that they were there to hear music.  “We’re done.”  “But the poster says 1:00 to 4:00.  It’s only 3:15.”

While we had this conversation, some more people came in.  Ten folks just had arrived for the last advertised hour.  And 45 to 50 people still were hanging around.

“We’ll see if the Sneaky Tikis will play.”  To my surprise, the response was, “We came to see the Lava Pups.”  When Glenn, Robert, and Sue said okay, the drums were reassembled.  The Sneaky Tikis agreed to play some more after us. 

We plugged in and started up with “Mr. Moto.”  The mic was turned off.  We just played by selecting songs off the set list.  The retro rock stuff caught the fancy of our new audience and the folks who had not left.  Once again, they were singing along.  No banter between songs.  Pick one and play.  By request, we finished our “second” set with “Squad Car.”

This time through we were having more fun.  Kinks and jitters gone.  The audience was having fun.  The spontaneity added to the fun.  We were loose and warmed up.  I ventured out from behind the mic.  Twenty feet is more cord than you might think.

The Sneaky Tikis took our place on the stage.  Lukas adjusted the drum kit.  Once again, high energy, fast and loud surf rock filled the bowling alley.  Except for four people bowling and the staff, everybody in the Capitol Bowl was there for the music.  The bands were rewarding them.

Lucas tested out his wireless by walking around the restaurant area.  Folks danced in front of him while he played.  This was surf music was all about.  Bands and audiences engaged with one and other.  Feeding off of each other.  Fun for everybody!

In another moment of spontaneity, Cash Bobby Dickson of the Cash Profits guided the Sneaky Tikis through a fuzzed-up punk version of “Ghost Riders.”  As they played and he sang, memories of “Ring of Fire” by Wall of Voodoo came to mind.  Music has a way of spanning generations.  I recalled a Sons of the Pioneers LP with “Ghost Riders.”  But what was going on on-stage was not my parents’ or the Sons of the Pioneers’ “Ghost Riders”!

At 4:30 or so, my last duty as a host was to shriek “Wipe Out, Baby!” one more time.  And Lukas demonstrated his drumming prodigy talents.  The bowlers stood by the front desk enthralled by his skills.  They were not going to leave while he was playing.

The late arrivers had been treated to more than an hour of fun music.  Only 45 minutes were required.  They thanked us and ordered another beer.  One said, “We’re glad we stayed for the kids.  They’re really good.”  But one of the others said, “But I like your style of old-time rock ‘n roll.”

What they had to say did not make much difference in my assessment.  The two bands had put on a complete and fun show.  The families of the Sneaky Tikis beamed with pride.  They were enthused and excited.  They too knew that this had been quite an event.

While I decompressed with a beer and before loading out, the manager put some cash into the tip jar and said, “You guys were great.  We love it when you’re here.”  Her assistant and the bartender nodded in agreement.

As I headed to the Doghouse with the back of the Prius filled with equipment, I reflected on the day and how I felt.  Exhausted.  Exhilarated.  Excited.  Elated.  Enthused.


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