Distant Admiration

15 July 2006
BenWahBob found ourselves back at Baha Rock Club in St. Charles, MO for the standard once-about-every-six-weeks gig. I rolled up a bit earlier than normal – which was actually on time for a change, as opposed to running in the door at the last minute and setting up just in time to start playing. I actually got “Rock Star” parking – right at the front door. Sweet. Set up was a breeze, as usual, and I had time to chat a bit with the fellas before we played.

The sets were pretty much the standard fare BWB sets. The crowd was a bit sparse at the beginning of the night, but began to pick up as time wore on. By eleven o’clock or so, there was actually a pretty good crowd in attendance. One table off to the right of the stage was populated by a bachelorette party, who seemed to be letting nothing interfere with their good time. It seemed to be infectious. Any time you have a bunch of attractive young women running to the dance floor all night long, it will tend to have that sort of effect. Everyone seemed to be having a pretty good time, so I guess that’s all that really matters.

When I have time, I usually try to sneak outside in-between sets to call Dawna. She was at home with Samuel only this time, as Derek was with his father all weekend. We had gone to his fortieth birthday party Friday night, and Derek elected to stay with him for most of the weekend to visit with a cousin he doesn’t often see. Anyway…as I was stepping out to make the call, I overheard a group of people arguing just outside the club. I was walking away to get some quiet when I started to get the gist of the conversation. It was a guy – probably in his late 20s or early 30s – yelling at a group of four or five women. I stopped and turned in my tracks when I heard him threaten to beat the (insert expletive here) out of all of them…right there on the spot.

Huh?

Now, if there is one thing I could never tolerate, it is exactly this; a man bullying and threatening violence against women. Naturally, I strolled right back and into the middle of this little party to offer my services. I told the goon that whatever the problem was, he needed to take it somewhere else. Well, alcohol being the fuel of idiocy that it is, he got immediately into my face and started casting expletives toward me. I tried to explain to him that he didn’t appear to understand the situation into which he was now hurling himself, and all he needed to do was to calm down and quietly go away. He continued with his verbal onslaught, citing some garbage about “all his boys” as he pointed to the club door. I was starting to loose my normally demur composure. I actually found myself with my finger in his face, ranting something about “his boys” picking him up at the hospital if he didn’t run like a scared little girl. Fortunately for all involved, Jim came storming out the door and interjected himself into our little budding fracas. Cooler heads eventually prevailed, and I agreed not to hurt him as he agreed to go away and stop threatening women. Jim told me later that the guy was a regular at the club, and had once before been barred for a year because he is an angry drunk. He was also amazed, as he had never seen me so mad about anything. Well…if anything gets me going, that’s it. I am glad, though, that I didn’t have to go to jail over that insignificant slug.

So, I went back inside and finished the night like nothing had happened. That’s one of the beauties of Zen; when it’s over, it’s over. On to the new moment.

At the end of the night, we tore down as usual, got paid as usual, and Dale disappeared as usual. He had taken down the banner, laid in out on the dance floor to roll up, and then left it there while he went to the bar to pay his tab or something. When he finally returned, he found it still on the floor, but now mangled and torn in several places. Ouch! Bobby didn’t appear to be too happy about this, citing the fact that it was a $400 banner and that he must be just made of money. Dale was beside himself. He had left the banner on the floor and it had gotten destroyed. Bummer.

It wasn’t all dark memories from the weekend, though. I discovered I have a secret admirer. Someone sent an email through the BWB website alluding to such affect. Carlos forwarded it to me, and razzed me about it quite a bit. I told Dawna, and she was bordering in being a bit catty about it. I couldn’t tell if she was serious or not, though she claims it was all in jest. Hmmm. Perhaps. I have had plenty of experience with that, unfortunately. Most girlfriends/wives say they can handle the female attention showered upon us, but when it happens they loose their minds over it. My ex-wife used to nip at my heels for weeks over some other woman even talking to me. Virtually every girlfriend has done pretty much the same. I think Dawna knows I would never cheat on her, but I guess only time will really tell how well she handles it.

I thought it was kind of neat (how corny does that sound?). I never really took advantage of the status thrust upon local entertainment celebrities which seems to allow women to cast themselves at us with reckless abandon, so this is kind of new to me. I recalled back in the late 80’s handing out cards for people to fill out for Nassty’s mailing list, and receiving a modest share of female compliments. There were also a few directed through Those1Guys’ website a few years ago. But, for the most part, I seem to have a tendency to scare women off. Everyone seems to think that I look mean and mad all the time, when in reality I’m probably the happiest person you’ll ever meet. I mean, come on…I get paid for music! I get to build pipe organs during the day, and build rock music at night. How much happier could a life possibly be? Anyway…this didn’t seem like one of those band-tart situations, just someone expressing her gratitude for what I do. And I truly appreciate that, Laura.

The drive back to St. Jacob that night was filled with the sounds of the Spock’s Beard CD Day for Night, which is replete with harmony vocals and great songwriting. What a truly great band.