When I was a late teenager, my uncle Eddie was in a band
called “the treacherous four”, later known simply as T4. They were a rockabilly
style band and played just about every kind of rockabilly there was. Well, in
my late teens never really hearing of rockabilly there were few bands I knew of
so I was introduced to the genre with open arms. And Eddie was a phenom on
stage. If you closed your eyes you could hear Elvis. You could hear Gene
Vincent. You could hear Eddie Von Bach. That last one not many have heard of
but over the course of his T4 career Eddie played some of his own written
songs. Some were about dancing, some were about love, and some were about
choices. 1000s of them.
But I was a pretty down kid at the time. My girlfriend of 10
months and I had just broken up on I wanna say 11/15/95, not that I really remember it or think about
her on a daily basis or anything, but I was in a pretty foul mood. I celebrated
a bad thanksgiving with my sister and mother in Boston, and later I was back
home when Eddie took me under his wing and said “Ya wanna go to the midtown for
my concert?” I knew he had to be out of his mind because I was just 19.
The midtown was a local watering hole for years and it still
stands. Its on herr and second st in the middle of town in Harrisburg. They
would sometimes check IDs so you had to outsmart the bouncers. It was quickly proven
to be not that difficult. Eddie instructed me to “Walk in like you owned the
joint. Be confident. Act like you’d been there, get a seat and a coke, and
nobody will bother you.”
As you could probably guess from my other writings I am a
bit of a pussy and still am at 35. But the more I thought about it I decided I
couldn’t do it. So he said “HERE, hold my guitar, walk in there, put the guitar
on the area where I’ll be singing, and sit. DO IT.”
So, tail between my legs, yet balls proudly throbbing with
every heartbeat of adrenalin, I grab that guitar case and swallowed vomit as I
nervously yet confidently walked right past the bouncer guy, set down his
guitar case, and sat down.
It was my first roadie job of my career and payment was life
experience and countless hours of music and people watching entertainment.
The smoke filled hole-in-the-wall was right up my alley. You
could see there were lights on but they all looked like their own spotlights,
enlightening the sorrow filled faces that are in just about any bar. The
patrons were hunched over, sulking in their drink and asking the bartender for
their therapeutic advise and of course, for more drink. This place would,
eventually, be my place of worship to the alcohol gods myself, but this night I
wasn’t in it for my future. It was just to make it through the night without
being noticed and thrown out. I just wanted to hear music and observe, and I
was in it to win it, but I was so nervous I guess I was more noticeable to
those who had been used to the blue hue.
The bouncer noticed me sitting alone with nothing but
nervous jitters. I quickly ordered a coke with ice and the bouncer stopped over
to me.
“whatcha drinkin buddy?”
-oh a coke with ice. I’m the DD tonight so i’ll drink
tomorrow night.
“sweet…” he said “enjoy the show…” and he walked away.
That was it. I was in and enjoy it I did. Phew! Can you
spell relief? R-O-L-A-I-D-S… no, no… like non-anxietal relief. P-R-O-Z-A-C…
yeah, that’s more like it.
Lotta family showed up and it was a regular hootenanny
affair. Mac n mare showed up, rere, the locals, plus nancy and john were there.
It was sweet. I can still to this day hear my uncle sing those tunes and I long
for those days again. They were simpler times, although tumultuous. I really
didn’t have much of a social life in school so this was an eye opener for me
about how much fun the bar scene was.
Plus there was Nancy. Gorgeous woman with the deepest voice
you’d ever hear on a lady. Raspy, smoked-all-her-life kinda voice and I am not
sure she even smoked. Her husband is the coolest guy and was totally chill with
everyone he seemed to meet. The direct opposite of me. But as I watched them
dance I saw the greatest thing ever on a stunning woman.
I watched her zipper disappear. This was something you didn’t
see much in 12 years of catholic school.
The jeans she had on were so tight that as she gyrated and
danced with such fervor the undulations of the curtains eventually peristalsis’d
their way into eating the jeans at the seam. At that point she may have been in
her 30-40s, and all I could hear, beyond Eddie raspily singing into the
microphone was Simon and Garfunkel… “coo-coo-cah-choo mrs robinson…” remember
those old horns from the 1930’s cars? “Arooooooooooogah!” I was droolingly
smitten…
And in a bar…
And 19…
I miss the good old days.
“C’mon little baby save the last dance for me…”
Nancy was a tough girl though. Many years later, I was in
the car smoking with my then buddy Kevin and she asked to join us. I guess she
wasn’t used to the horrible local sativa we were puffing on and she punched
me…HARD…directly in my gut. She thought it was laced and for all I knew it may
have been but not to my doing. It was the same old dirt we all were zoned on
for the years we knew as our early 20s. as I held in vomit from the gut punches
I couldn’t retaliate for 2 reasons. She was a chick, an elder one at that
(cougar? Sure, yet married so off limits) and she could kick my ass. So I cried
in the bathroom like a little girl to which my father found me in there saying that
I had to get out of there because his constituents (he was a politician) had
said I was in there and I was embarrassing him. Whatever, I left, and a few
weeks later she looked me dead in the eye while she sang the old Eagles’
standard “get over it” at karaoke. I don’t care. I still loved her. She and John
had I wanna say three kids together and the one ended up passing away a few
years ago. But Nancy is doing as ok as she could be, even showing me a scantily
placed tattoo her daughter inspired her to get… it said “heaven can wait” yet Nancy
was an angel on earth to me. Last I saw her was I wanna say 2006 but don’t
quote me on it. It was a hell of a love affair in my brain (notice I didn’t say
in my head) and I spent many a night tossing and turning wondering what could
have been if I was born a few decades earlier.
Nowadays I know what would have happened. I’d just be a few
decades older still wondering what could have been…
Oh well…
