March 21 4515
There was a late bloom at River’s Edge. That’s weird because there were early birds too. Cheers to Dorothy, Blanche and Rose! I know that sounds suspect, but that’s what I was told. If I had to guess, it was Blanche that came out and tore it up first set. Schwing! They were all fun lovin’, hot steppin’, bull cacklin’, jib-jabbin’, drink tippin’ friends and confidants committed to a good time right out of the gate. The proverbial icing on the cake was when they joined Tess Petrillo’s table up front. One of them was even a transplant from Lima! Zoinks! Cheers to the Gilded MILFs!
Next up was Shark Girl and Sting Ray. I was summoned to their table under a shroud of mystery during first break. Here I thought she was going to ask me to make out in the parking lot. NOT! She only wanted a picture of my Jaws T-shirt before she left. Dang! BTW, sharks are fish, classified within the clade Selachimorpha because of fully cartilaginous skeletons, not to mention the gills, those are always a dead giveaway. Unless you’re talking uh, Coelacanth. Interestingly enough sharks are related to sting rays, but this particular one was more closely related to Jamie of Dutch Mill fame. Now that’s some trippy stuff right there. Cheers to Shark Girl and Sting Ray!
Not many familiars, so the roll call is small this time around. Cheers to Rutherford B “Purple” Hayes, Randy (like a Fruit Loops toy, there’s at least one in every crowd) Daddy Mackinaw, Monchichi, Bronzey, Freckles, Pinky, Peachy, Milky, Olive, Ghostly, Pearl, Rosie, (Dang! 50 shades of Caucasian) Wolverine, Studley Doright, Maria Maraca-Popper, Smoochie, and Short Skirt, Long Jacket. Easy does it BVB, that’s not a Cake cue. He’s trying to remember the words right now, I just know it.
Actually I’m thinking Smoochie was in fact Claire from Froggy’s. HHHMMM. Not quite sure, but she didn’t ask for Some Kind of Wonderful, so the plot thickens. She was wearing a “Kiss me I’m Ohioish” T-shirt, but when I puckered up and leaned in, she ran like the Dickens. Yes, I said the Dickens. Maybe that’s when her request flew out the window. Hey, she’s the one pointing at her shirt first. Sorry Smoochie. She was probably showing it to Sheila.
Meanwhile, things on our end were…challenging. Sometimes you can use the excuse that we had time off, thus the rustiness, but not really this time. There were rusty restarts, a few missed lead-ins, a humming cordless mic, and a few other stumbles including a grand mal seizure on guitar that lasted on and off for several songs. Yikes! Apparently there was a switch flipped on the amp rack that started the guitar dilemma. I was pretty much the only one standing there, but I didn’t flip any switches…bitches. Trust and believe.
Despite the ghost in the machine and a dead iPod (woopsy), we plowed forward, carving out a respectable night that included all the musical food groups, meat, cheese, bread and butter. The crowd noise level seemed to suggest a suitable amount of appreciation, but as always, the River’s Edge has a high contrast between light and dark that makes it almost impossible to see much beyond the stage, which means Cam struggled as well. All apologies to the grainy ones, ten, twenty and thirty feet away that didn’t get in the slide show.
Then there was that late bloom. Sweet. It was Studley Doright and Pinky that moved up into the light and got things fired up with a flurry of jig wigglin’. They were soon joined by, Wolverine, Short Skirt and her escort Lucky, a whole lotta Rosie, Bronzey, Pearl, and Monchichi. There were more, but they went beyond the LED glow and into the forbidden zone.Thanks to all for catching fire. Lots of fun bunch high fives and lots of air guitar, plus lots of leg, that’s for sure. Wow.
Once we had them going, it was, mush, mush, mush just to keep it that way for the last hour. Like the friggin’ Iditarod I tell ya. Thankfully we made the right connection and milked it until the bitter end. Or butter end. But wait! There’s more!
After we bid a fond adieu, they stuck around hollering for one more. HHHMMM. Well what could that be? Usually we’re racking our brains for a suitable send-off, but fortunately they already had one. Unfortunately, it was a REPEAT! Huh? Not only was it a repeat, but it was a repeat from ten minutes earlier. Can you guess? No, it wasn’t AC / DC. Had we played AC /DC, they would’ve been quivering in the corner, consumed with ecstasy. No need for a repeat.
Nope. This encore was for Mark Ronson’s, Uptown Funk. Well alrighty then! Uptown funked them up…twice! After that, they willingly filed out of the back with full bellies and dry diapers as Newman would say. Cheers to the Late Bloomers! Cheers also to Mark Ronson! I’m just waiting for the lawsuit from Morris Day and the Time. Sorry Mark.
The title? Well, turns out it’s a secret code. One we had all but forgotten about until Maria Maraca-Popper reminded us. It’s an ancient equation used by musicians all over the world since time immemorial to help aid with the ever present threat of a zombie attack. Duly noted Maria. 4515 it is.
Looks like we’re back at River’s Edge on May 9th, so stay tuned Shelby County. Maybe we’ll do Nueve de Mayo and sprinkle some chili powder on that bitch.
Wow. For the first time in what seems like a year…I’m caught up. Officially there are no notes piled at the desk. Having said that, it’s about to pick up. We’ve got the Rally and St. Rose coming up, plus the Froggy holidays mixed in with a Dutch Mill, a Luke’s, and River’s Edge. We’re also doing a rare date at Lima’s American Legion on North Shore Drive April 18th. Don’t forget THIS Saturday April 4th is our Easter special at Froggy’s, with plenty of surprises in store, so bring your basket case, buck teeth, cotton tail and big ears down to the lake and hop on it!
Until the next Sasquatchin’, ‘Egg Watchin’, Belt Notchin’ adventure…