Chapter 53: The Ugly Side of Publicity

August 19, 1984

"You know that guy who's been trying to get my attention all summer? The one that tries to talk to me after almost every show?"

Evie, who'd been uncharacteristically quiet and pensive, had finally decided to open up. It was a Sunday evening; we'd done an afternoon show, and the three of us were now lounging around in the apartment that Evie shared with my girlfriend. Inez and I had been trying to draw Evie out, which was a task that we'd never needed to undertake before. The typically transparent Evie rarely kept things inside. Upon hearing her mention her constant pursuer in this context, and with the tones in her voice, I immediately grew concerned.

"He didn't try anything, did he?" I asked warily.

"Not unless you consider talking politics an unwelcome advance," said Evie with a slight laugh. "I spent about twenty minutes with that guy – his name is Ron Wilton – after the show today, talking about the upcoming presidential election."

"Got some news for you, Ev," I said with a grin. "Reagan's getting re-elected. It'll be a landslide of historic proportions."

"I would've figured that, even if you hadn't already told me a thousand times, Mr. I Know The Future," Evie shot back, finally breaking out into something approaching a smile. "But I have to confess, I'm a little flattered by all of the attention he's giving me. You know I've had quite a dry spell in the romance department. And I really don't think he's that bad of a guy."

"You aren't thinking about going out with him, are you?" Inez said with a trace of alarm in her voice.

"I didn't say that," Evie replied. "But I will say that little by little, he's wearing down my defenses."

"Be careful, Ev," Inez cautioned her roommate. "Remember Danny. This is a similar situation."

I, too, was worried. It was highly abnormal to hear Evie – always level-headed, and quite picky about men – talking in this manner. Perhaps her 'dry spell', as she'd put it, was clouding her judgment. At the same time, neither Inez nor I knew anything about this Ron Wilton character, so maybe it was hasty for either of us to jump to conclusions. However, it was unquestionably a situation worth monitoring.

August 25, 1984

East Durham, New York

Today, Lightning in a Bottle took our act out on the road for the first time. Well, the first time, if you don't count forty-five minute drives to the beach.

Who was responsible for pushing this gig on us? Probably the last person you'd expect. She was none other than Ruth O'Malley, my mother. Mom had thrown the idea out a couple of weeks earlier. On a phone call one evening, she mentioned a conversation she'd had with a new friend of hers at church.

"Her brother is on the organizing committee for an Irish festival in upstate New York," my mother explained. "It's somewhere in the Catskills, not that far from Albany. I never would have guessed this, but this little town is a hotbed for Irish cultural activity. They're having this festival the last weekend in August. My friend told me that most of the local musical acts have signed up to play at the festival. There's also a few Irish pubs in the area that usually have entertainment on the weekends, and they're having trouble finding it for that weekend, since the festival is the big thing in town. They're looking far and wide for bands to come in and play, and they're willing to pay top dollar, since there will be a lot of out-of-town folks around. I know it would be a long trip for you, but if you like, my friend has contact information for a few of these places."

I was immediately interested, but I couldn't resist teasing my mom a little. "Wow, Mom. You've become quite the expert on weekend night life." This drew a laugh from my mother. I went on, "This definitely sounds like something we should look into. Let me bounce it off the others, but I can't imagine any of them having problems with it."

"I know your sister won't," Mom pointed out. She insisted on calling Eileen herself; I agreed, but told her to tell my sister not to say anything to Dave until we could discuss it as a group.

As I expected, the whole gang thought it was a great idea. "Turnabout is fair play," Inez said to me with a smile. "You've been wonderful about immersing yourself in my culture. Now, here's a chance for me to return the favor."

I felt compelled to point something out. "I appreciate that, angel. Even though calling it 'my culture' is a stretch." Inez, of course, had actually been born in Puerto Rico, whereas any connection I had with Ireland went back three or four generations. Even so, it was obvious she was looking forward to this experience. I loved her for that energy, and I'd come to expect nothing less from her.

We gave the contact information to Holly and Annie, and they worked out the details. No one in that neck of the woods had ever heard of us, but our co-managers still managed to land us a high-paying gig. Bringing them on as managers had been a shrewd move; it had paid dividends in so many ways. They assured us that we wouldn't have to make any adjustments to our set list to accommodate the clientele, which would be overwhelmingly Irish-American. Our usual fare would do just fine.

"Maybe we can throw in an extra U2 song or two, just to please the masses," I cracked.

Early that Saturday afternoon, we formed up a little caravan, and our traveling party set out on a journey of about three hours. Dennis and Mayra, as they usually did, rode together in our van, its rear portion stuffed to capacity with instruments and equipment. Holly, Annie, and Derek rode in Holly's car. The three of them would have to head back to New Jersey right after the show.

"Derek wants to come and watch you guys, but he has something important to do tomorrow," Holly told me. "He's being real mysterious about it. He's not even telling Annie what it is. He says we'll find out soon enough."

"I'll have to try to drag it out of him," I grinned. "Where's Rae, anyhow? Couldn't she make it?" As soon as those words escaped from my mouth, Holly's expression became somewhat more glum.

"She's, um, busy today and couldn't make it." That terse reply clearly told me that something was amiss between the two of them, and I opted not to press for further elaboration at that time.

Paul's provider of transportation was Natalie; we were all shocked that she even expressed an interest in coming along. The remaining five of us – Inez, Evie, Eileen, Dave and myself – piled into Dave's car for the long trip. I rode in the passenger seat, while the three girls sat in the back. Up the New York State Thruway we shot, a lot of laughing – and singing – taking place on the way, all of us psyched about a new and different adventure.

Although Mom had described the town to me, we were somewhat surprised to find that East Durham was, in fact, a little piece of the Emerald Isle buried deep in the Catskills. Located about twenty minutes from the Thruway, the town lacked a well-defined center, but had kind of a main drag featuring a few restaurants, Irish pubs, and an Irish-themed hotel or two. Signs pointed the way to this weekend's festival, which of course we bypassed. We quickly found our destination; a pub that appeared small from the road, but was actually reasonably spacious on the inside.

We would be the first of two acts to take the stage in the evening. Show time was still a couple of hours away, which gave us plenty of time to get set up and take in our surroundings. It was disorienting, in a sense, but it was also exhilarating – we would be playing in a whole new environment.

"So what do you think?" I grinned at my sister. "Did Mom steer us wrong here?"

"I'll give her due credit," Eileen replied with a wide smile. "This looks like it will be a lot of fun."

As show time neared, something we weren't fully prepared for transpired. The place became packed. Many of the festival-goers had apparently trekked over.

"Lots of people here tonight," I said to Inez, understating the truth.

"Which means," she shot back, "we have an opportunity to win over a lot of new fans." We all were enjoying this experience, but none of us more so than Inez.

After a little bit of hurry-up-and-wait, we were introduced, and took the stage, launching right into "Edge of Seventeen". Inez, wearing a Yankees cap ("Hey, we're in New York, right?" she'd cracked before the show) sang lead on the next number, "Holding Out for a Hero". We'd be doing three sets. When we got to the final song of the first set, I spoke a few words to the audience.

"Here's a tune we always love doing ... from a band that hails from the land of my ancestors, and of course, my sister's too." And we went right into "New Year's Day", to raucous applause. We started the second set with another U2 classic we'd recently learned, "I Will Follow". We breezed through the remainder of set number two. The final set, however, was full of new material. We'd put in quite a bit of extra practice time, mastering some new songs that we believed would go over well in front of this crowd.

Not content to limit our salute to Ireland to a couple of U2 songs, we began the set with three consecutive tunes from acts hailing from the Emerald Isle. First up was "Jailbreak" by Thin Lizzy. You might think I'd be the one to handle lead vocals on that one. You'd be wrong. We got creative, giving the honor to Evie, and damn if she didn't do a bang-up job. I reclaimed the mike for the next song, "I Don't Like Mondays" by the Boomtown Rats. Next came something a little different for us: Van Morrison's "Moondance". Lead vocals here went to me, as well, but I passed off the beautiful keyboard part to Eileen (something I was doing more and more often). Evie, meanwhile, executed the smooth sax solo to cool perfection.

Later in the set, we broke out three other songs we had never performed live. Inez found herself yet another riveting vocal showcase with Berlin's "No More Words". I handled lead vocal on the recently-released "Missing You" by John Waite. The next-to-last song of the night was "Burning Down The House" by the Talking Heads, and we finished up with the familiar "Because The Night". The ovation we received at the end, as well as the number of folks who approached us later to inform us how much they enjoyed our show, told us that Inez's words had been prophetic ... we'd landed a whole new legion of fans.

Derek, Annie, and Holly came up to say goodbye; they were already heading on out.

"Great show, guys," Derek told us. "It was definitely worth the trip."

"So what's this I hear about you having some mysterious plans for tomorrow?" I said to Derek. "How about spilling the beans? You can't hide it from us forever."

"No, dude, I ain't sayin' a word," he laughed. "You'll just have to wait."

"Come on, give it up," I persisted. "I'll even buy you a Guinness. I'm not above offering a bribe." But Derek wouldn't bite, and soon, Guinness-less, the three of them were on their way.

Next, Paul came over to let us know that he and Natalie were leaving, as well. "If it were up to me, we'd stay," Paul explained, sounding a little annoyed. "But Natalie says it's too chilly up here in the mountains, and she wants to head home."

"I give that relationship two more months, max," Dave said to me the moment Paul was out of earshot.

"I don't know," I said in reply. "Sometimes I think Paul is so pussy-whipped, he'll just go on following her around like a puppy dog."

Inez then appeared on the scene, wearing a bright smile on her face. "Guess what just happened? I spoke with a guy in the audience who does publicity work for the Yankees. He noticed the cap I was wearing. He says we sounded great, and offered to keep us in mind if he hears of any gig opportunities."

"Not only did we gain fans, but also contacts," I pointed out, as everyone nodded in agreement. Dennis and Mayra showed up at that point, as they had finished stashing our equipment in the van. We hung out in the pub for awhile, watching the next act, and then decided to split. Outside, the night sky was crystal clear, and the air was in fact quite cool. It may have been chilly to Natalie, but to me it felt delightfully refreshing. The rest of us planned to stay overnight in East Durham. Our contingent consisted of three couples: Inez and I, Eileen and Dave, Mayra and Dennis, plus Evie.

We found a cozy little motel right down the street. Out of the seven of us, only one set of parents had questioned us about hotel sleeping arrangements: Mayra's. She had basically concocted a fib, telling Raul and Rosie that the men would be sleeping in one room, the women in another. But in actuality, instead of two rooms, we rented out four. This was after we nearly reconsidered, for Evie's sake. However, she wouldn't hear of it.

"Don't worry about me," Evie said with a smile. "I'll get my own room and just crash out. The rest of you need to take advantage of this chance to do the couples thing."

A little later, my sweetie and I were lying in bed in our hotel room, savoring the vestiges of post-coital bliss. Inez and I typically did some of our best talking under these conditions, and tonight was no exception.

"I'm a little worried about Evie," I began. "I've heard a few too many 'dry spell' comments from her lately. Tonight's sleeping arrangements have to be forcing her to dwell on that idea."

"It's hard on her, I agree," Inez replied. "No one's better at putting things in perspective than Evie, though. She knows it's just a temporary thing."

"I hope so," I put forth, then gave voice to my other concern. "It seems weird ... knowing that Dave and my sister are sharing a hotel room, just like us."

Inez, as she so often did, offered up nothing more than a soft smile, inviting me to continue.

"I guess I have to tell myself that they have a very stable, long-term relationship, they're both of age, and it's logical to expect that they're doing whatever it is that they're doing."

That gave Inez a serious case of the giggles. When she settled back down, she grew reflective as well.

"About your sister," she said softly. "I really miss the closeness that she and I used to have. Ever since I missed her recital, she's been holding back a little. I mean, it's hard to notice, she's fine most of the time. But something's missing. I'd love for things to go back to the way they were."

"Do you want me to talk to her?" I offered right away.

"I don't think that's necessary," Inez replied after a moment's consideration. "I think the best thing to do is to give Eileen the space to work it out on her own. Sometimes we forget that she's two years younger than the rest of us."

August 29, 1984

Late in the afternoon, before practice, Inez and I had some time to kill. We decided to have an early dinner at Margarita's, a place we'd been visiting much less frequently of late. Not that we'd grown tired of it; there just never seemed to be enough time. We got into a discussion about our class schedules for the upcoming fall semester. The start of classes, and the beginning of our senior year in college, was less than a week away. I planned to make a small change to my schedule, and I decided that now was the time to tell Inez about it.

"I mean, look at what I'm taking for an elective this semester," I pointed out. "Sociology 101. I'm a senior, why do I need to take that? Wouldn't it be better to take something I could actually use?"

"What do you have in mind?" Inez asked curiously, unaware that I was leading up to something.

"I want to drop the sociology class, and instead, take as an elective."

She looked at me harder, noticing I hadn't really answered her.

"Spanish 101."

Inez broke out into a radiant smile, but before she could respond, I elaborated further. "Also, during the spring semester, I'll only need nine credits to graduate. Remember, back during my 'dark period' in freshman year, I took an extra class so that I'd have flexibility later. I plan to take Spanish 102 during the spring semester, since taking only nine credits would bump me down to part-time status. I know it takes a lot of effort to learn a new language, more than two semesters actually, but I want to be able to speak with your mom and dad in their native tongue when we go down to visit them. At least a little."

A moved Inez leaned right across the table and kissed me on the mouth. "You're something else. I think I know a couple of people down in Florida who'd love to hear about this decision of yours."

Later in the evening, after band practice, I gave Javier and Lupe a call. I told them about my little plan, and completely made their evening. The following day, I went over to the registrar's office and made the schedule change.

September 1, 1984

Labor Day weekend. The unofficial end of the summer season, and for Lightning in a Bottle, an end to the madness, and occasional mayhem, that was the beach party scene. After the holiday, we'd go back to playing primarily at university events, local establishments, private parties, and weddings.

The summer, however, wasn't about to end without yet another disturbing occurrence. And this one nearly got ugly. It centered around Ron Wilton, who we'd started referring to as Evie's Number One Fan.

All of us took note of Ron in the audience during the show. He attended just about every show we did at the beach, and his presence was nothing out of the ordinary. I noticed during the break before the final set that Evie seemed unusually silent and withdrawn, and I considered asking her what was up. But it was time to take the stage for the last set, and all was seemingly forgotten.