On and on, we got the jobs. Work was steady – every week.
- Wednesday through Saturday gigs: 9pm to 1am…
- Thursday thru Saturday, 9pm to 1am …
- Fridays and Saturdays 10pm to 2 am …
- Exclusive one niters…
- The painful ‘five niter’ Tuesday through Saturday…
By Saturday night, everyone was hoarse and tired…
One five niter gig was at McDougal’s Place, an established nightclub restaurant that all bands vied to work at. A large destination wedding and banquet facility, they had a hopping night club scene. With a very nice stage, big crowds and decent money, we felt like we were finally at the upper tier of area rock gigs to get.
McDougal’s had a small army of scary-looking bouncers. They all were clean-shaven big Caucasian dudes that looked like they were brothers – same hair, same eyes … same face! I was fairly startled by the written schedule the main bouncer, Igor, supplied me; telling me it was my responsibility to read this every break. Igor wore a grey suit … all his co-workers wore grey suits…. They had concealed weaponry – I just knew it. They were just so calm. Strangely calm. I started and ended each set of our gig by reciting his list.
There were nightly drink specials: Alabama Slammers are half price until midnight!’, the upcoming entertainment: ‘come by for happy hour tomorrow night and see Vinnie, the amazing strolling violinist!’, dinner specials ‘this Friday only – buy one King Crab dinner and get the second for half price!’ and any miscellaneous announcements as written: ‘will the owner of a white Toyota Corolla with Pennsy tag number g59X44 please report to the front door? Your car will be towed in the next fifteen minutes if you don’t.’ This place was big on birthday celebrations and consequently I was handed a ‘birthday’ announcement fairly regularly… Tuesday nights were open bar for ten dollars from 7-9pm. How drunk do you think people were getting on Tuesdays?
McDougal’s had quite an odd assortment of clientele. The age range was twenty to ninety – give or take. My fondest memory of this place had to be the night I watched an old man pole dancing.
If you go to a club by yourself, sometimes a high bar stool, a support beam or any other conveniently sized static fixture can become your friend if you’re not near a wall. For many, it is hard to just stand there and be cool – it helps to lean or have some type of station you can call home base. There was an oddly positioned support beam just to the left of the dance floor and half way to the bar. This pole became a good friend to several folks looking to perhaps venture out on the dance floor and wanted to feel things out first. ‘Let me just hang out here for a bit .. you don’t mind, do you?’ You lean on it, it provides extra support if you need it and asks for nothing in return.
Anyway, the old dude was leaning on the pole. I say dude, but I think he was probably about eighty years old – but kudos for being out solo … and jamming. I couldn’t help but notice him. Since he was alone, he seemed oddly content, eyes closed, leaning on the pole, just grooving away to our music. What an awesome older fella, I thought. I hope I’m like that when I’m his age! Look at him – grooving to the music – yeah!
And then the stage lights flashed to a different setting and illuminated the lower level, including the floor – the dude’s pants were down to his ankles. He had been grooving away so much the pants were on the floor. He was too into it – he still didn’t have a clue. Big old floppy everything going on down there … hair, skin, expired underwear… ee gads!! We just kept on playing, and he kept on grooving, schmoozing with the pole and oblivious to the breeze to his nether region. Eventually, Igor caught wind of this and promptly tapped the old fella on the shoulders and helped him with his wardrobe malfunction and escorted him back to the bar.
Later that night some guy came up to me that looked official. I got my hopes up, thinking this could be ‘The Guy’ – the one that hands me his card and tells me he’s a super-agent and I’m the next big thing. As I sat there waiting for my club soda, he says, ‘honey ya got a great voice but, uh, you just don’t look right. I mean you don’t look rock and roll. You’re too pretty.’
And there it was. Summed up in ten seconds, I suddenly felt like I was wasting my time with this band. The music was great – but everything else felt wrong. I was tired of spinning wheels. Nothing was going to happen for me if I didn’t change gears in my career – it was time for me to move on.
I pounced on the trade papers the very next Monday and made inquiries. There was an opening for a ‘name act’ that was a show band – the ad said ‘lots of travel involved’. I found out they had a hit in the sixties and traveled the United States extensively as an ‘oldies’ act. This seemed too good to be true.
I did a live audition with them at a one niter special appearance they had in Philly. They asked me to sit in towards the end of their first set, and it would be Katrina and The Waves’ ‘Walking On Sunshine’. It was just spectacular. Spot on vocals – I was so pumped! I think I was walking on sunshine… these guys were so professional. Everyone sang and played an instrument, their equipment was state of the art – this felt really good. I just did the one song and exited the stage to wait to speak with them on their break. They all came over and told me the job was mine. I literally jumped for joy – A NAME ACT!! The BIG TIME!! I called my family and friends when I got home… look out – big things were happening!
I’m walking on sunshine – whoa oh
I’m walking on sunshine – whoa oh
I’m walking on sunshine – whoa oh
And don’t it feel good (HEY!) Alright now
And don’t it feel good (HEY!) Alright now
All right now yeah! (HEY!)
It would be six months later that I would find out no one was an original member of the hit group. Not a one.
Huh? So much for walking on sunshine …
theclubsinger 