Chapter 55: On The Road

December 4, 1984

Thanksgiving break came and went. A chain reaction of family obligations resulted in Inez and me not being together on Thanksgiving. Dave’s uncle, who lived a couple of hours away in Pennsylvania, was holding an extravagant Thanksgiving bash. Eileen really wanted to go, and Dad and Mom reluctantly agreed to allow her to do so.

Meanwhile, there was another large affair planned at the Andrade residence. Naturally, both Inez and I were invited. “You know what my Tio Raul’s like,” Inez pointed out, giving voice to our dilemma. “I know the table in your house will be emptier than usual on Thanksgiving, and your parents want us to be there, but what to do?”

We ended up making the best of the situation. On Thanksgiving, Inez went to her uncle’s house, and I spent the day with my parents and my brother. The phone lines in the O’Malley and Andrade residences were connected for about two hours straight. I spoke with Inez for an hour, and then handed the phone to an impatient Seamus, who yakked away with Lisette for another hour.

The next day, there was another Thanksgiving dinner at my place, which we O’Malleys pretty much recognized as the actual holiday feast. Inez, of course, was happily there in attendance, as were Eileen and Dave.

On another note, there was virtually no more fallout resulting from the pin-up calendar’s publication. The Crusaders For Morality crowd, for the most part, gave up the fight. We did see one or two CFM picketers occasionally at a gig of ours. But they were powerless and out of place, outnumbered tremendously by our fans, and we paid them no mind. It appeared as though they’d latched onto some other cause, waging their never-ending war against perceived evil as a means of building up their own self-worth.

A much more interesting development centered on Helen McAndrew. That column where she’d skewered both the calendar creators and Lightning in a Bottle turned out to be the last column she ever wrote for the campus newspaper. No announcement was made explaining her departure, but her conspicuous absence spoke volumes. One day, I asked Holly if she knew anything about Helen’s fate.

“All I heard,” she told me, “was that she had a difference in philosophy with the powers that be, and her leaving was by mutual agreement. Whether that’s another way of saying ‘fired’, I haven’t a clue.”

Also, the police moved swiftly and identified the woman who’d whacked me in the nuts; her name was Brandy Meyers. Brandy had actually been sold out by a couple of her fellow protestors, who were perhaps acting to remove suspicion from themselves. “I don’t know Brandy at all,” Holly told me, “but I’ve heard her name mentioned, and I’ve heard rumors about her. Helen McAndrew is such a mythical figure among her followers that you have to question all rumors, but I did hear that Helen and Brandy are lovers.”

The cops apprehended Brandy and charged her with assault; this fact was mentioned in a campus newspaper article the next day. We reconsidered when it came to pressing the issue further, opting instead to put the whole thing behind us.

Blessedly, the entire calendar mess was now in the rear view mirror, and our focus turned toward something we were really looking forward to. We had to get through final exams first. However, the Florida tour we’d discussed back in the summer was on the verge of becoming reality. We’d decided to try to do it over the upcoming holidays.

Tonight at practice, we learned that Holly and Annie, in conjunction with Mike and Jenny, our Florida contacts, had taken concrete steps toward making the tour a reality.

“We wanted to surprise you,” Annie told us. “I’ll never forget the way you all stood behind me during that calendar affair.”

“I also appreciate the support you’ve given me lately,” Holly put in. “So consider this a Christmas gift of sorts.”

“A gift that was paid for through your earnings, not our financial generosity. We’re not crazy,” Annie was quick to add, as we all laughed.

“So here’s what we worked out,” Annie went on. “We pack up all the gear and clothes, anything we’re bringing, a day or two before Christmas. We’ll head south bright and early, and I mean early, on the 26^th. This will allow all of us to spend Christmas with our families.”

“Except for me,” pointed out Inez. “Don’t get me wrong, though, it’s fine. I’ll be with Pat’s family, and I’ll see my parents a couple of days later.”

“And you’ll get to ring in the New Year with your family,” said Holly. “Let’s figure on all of us traveling in the van and two more cars. We booked a show in Gainesville on the evening of the 27^th. It’s at a popular night spot near the University of Florida campus. Jenny did the leg work on that one. The 28^th will be another travel day. We’ll head down to Miami and rest up a little. We booked more shows on the 29^th, 30^th, and 31^st.”

“You got us a booking on New Year’s Eve?” I queried.

“We sure did,” replied Holly. She named the club.

“I know that place well,” said Inez. “Wow, you got us in on New Year’s Eve? I’m impressed!”

“Give Mike some of the credit there,” put in Annie. “He pulled a few strings. There’s one more little detail we need to discuss, and that’s lodging and housing arrangements.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Inez quickly offered. “There’s my house, and also my Tio Ray’s house. Plus, Mike just moved into his own place, and I’m sure he’d love to have a few of us stay over.”

“Yeah,” said Annie, “but remember, we’re staying over one night in Gainesville. We’ll need hotel rooms. Let’s take a head count here. How many people are coming along?”

“The six of us in the band,” said Eileen. “Plus, you and Holly, that makes eight. Dennis and Mayra make it ten.”

“Derek’s coming. That’s eleven,” Annie added hastily. I was happy to hear that. After the way Derek had covered our backs during the calendar fiasco, he was now one of us, even though he had no formal role with the band. But there was one more person of interest who had not yet been mentioned.

“What about Natalie?” I asked Paul.

“She isn’t coming,” he replied rather abruptly.

“She isn’t?” Dave asked, his eyebrow raised.

“Did something happen we don’t know about?” I inquired.

“I didn’t say that. I just said she’s not coming,” Paul replied tersely. His tone of voice indicated he wanted us to drop it.

So, we dropped it.

December 10, 1984

Tonight, at practice, we added a couple of new tunes to our repertoire. That was by no means an uncommon occurrence; our play list was continuing to grow. Nonetheless, they were notable additions.

Of course, I often took advantage of my pre-knowledge in seeking out new songs. I kept a mental list of tunes whose release I was anticipating. Many times, I even knew when to expect a particular song to appear on the scene; my memory is that good. It helped that I often associate certain memories with music, allowing me to place many songs in their correct time period.

But once in awhile, a song got by me. It would come out, I would hear it for the first time in this life, and I would admonish myself, “That one’s perfect for us! How could I have forgotten it?”

That’s exactly what had happened two days ago.

I was over at Inez’s place, and Evie was there too. Over the radio, I heard the intro to a tune that had been released fairly recently. At once, I jumped up out of my seat, startling both Inez and Evie. “Oh, damn! We have to do this song!” Then, I looked straight at Evie.

Evie listened to the song; she was obviously hearing it for the first time. She slowly began nodding her head. “Yes,” she said, as a smile began to cross her face. “Oh, yeah. I can sing that one.”

“It’s perfect for you!” squealed Inez.

The song was “Better Be Good To Me” by Tina Turner. It definitely fit our style, but more importantly, it meshed perfectly with Evie’s skill set. We’d been seeking out tunes which would allow Evie to get more involved as a lead vocalist, and this one hit the bulls-eye.

And so, tonight at practice, with everyone having familiarized themselves with the song, we gave it a try. I had told Evie beforehand, “You know that sass you showed when Kathleen Holliday dissed you, and when you laid waste to poor Heather that day at my house? You need to bring that when you sing that song.”

And she did. On the second run-through, she actually began channeling Tina Turner’s performing style, strutting back and forth across the stage. “Work it, gurrl!” Dave shouted, causing us all to crack up.

After the third run-through, it was apparent that we had a winner. It was Paul who came up with the next suggestion, following along with the Evie-as-Tina-Turner theme.

“We know ‘Proud Mary’, don’t we?” Paul threw out there. “Let’s get a little creative.”

We had, in fact, done “Proud Mary” several times in practice, but never live. Our version was based on the Creedence Clearwater Revival version, with me up front on vocals. Then, as Paul suggested, we got creative, coming up with sort of a hybrid rendition that drew from both the CCR version and the Ike and Tina Turner version.

The first verse and chorus were based on the CCR version, with me doing the singing. Right after the first “rolling on the river”, we paused. Evie picked up the vocal at that point, singing fully unaccompanied at first. I attempted to mimic Ike Turner’s deep chanting of the word “rolling”. However, Dave was quick to point something out. “There’s one among us who’s better suited to do that,” he declared, eyeing Paul. “You’ve got that deep baritone. Let’s hear it.”

“Nope,” Paul refused. “We’ve been through this before, haven’t we? I don’t sing.”

“You did fine with ‘Some Kind of Wonderful’, didn’t you?” Dave countered, pressing the matter. “And this isn’t really singing. All you have to do is say ‘rolling’ a few times. It’s like a vocal bass line. Piece of cake. I’d do it if I could.”

That logic won out, and Paul acquiesced. The truth was, Paul’s trepidation about singing was somewhat justified; he really wasn’t much of a vocalist, even when his heart was in it. But he did, in fact, have a very deep voice, one better suited than mine for hitting those very low notes. He ended up giving it his best shot, and before long, we had yet another impressive addition to our catalog.

Evie, featured strongly in both tunes, was absolutely beaming. I was happy for her; after her recent struggles, she needed that.

December 26, 1984

Around mid-morning the day after Christmas, the “Lightning in a Bottle Heads South” tour got underway. Ah, delusions of grandeur.

We had stuffed the van with our instruments, various accessories and electrical necessities on the 23^rd, as Annie had suggested. The drive down to Gainesville, Florida would take at least eighteen hours, allowing for meal breaks. We started off with Evie and Mayra traveling along with Dennis in the van. Paul, Derek, Holly and Annie piled into Holly’s car. Dave, meanwhile, sat behind the wheel of his own car, with Eileen, Inez and yours truly as passengers.

Obviously, cell phones were still many years away from coming into vogue at that point in time; we had no means of keeping in touch with each other while traveling. If we got split up, we agreed to meet at South of the Border, near the North Carolina – South Carolina line, just a little past the halfway point of our trip. Those who live in the Carolinas, as well as those who have traveled I-95 along the East Coast, know about South of the Border. It’s a tacky mini-resort with a Mexican theme that caters to long-distance travelers, especially those heading for (or heading back from) Florida.

We arrived at South of the Border within thirty minutes of each other, in the early evening. After a hearty meal, we didn’t dawdle; we asked for our check as soon as our plates were nearing empty. For the second leg of the trip, Dennis and Mayra traded places with Inez and me. I commandeered the van, riding along with my girlfriend and Evie. Dennis and Mayra, meanwhile, took our place in Dave’s car, and off we went.

December 27, 1984

Gainesville, Florida

It was nearly five in the morning when we rolled into Gainesville. We had informed the hotel staff that we’d be checking in very late. We did the “private rooms for couples” thing again, which meant that Inez and I had our own room. But we were much too tired for any hanky-panky, and we crashed out until almost noon.

It was around one o’clock when Jenny knocked on our door. She was practically jumping up and down with excitement; after all, this show in Gainesville had been her brainchild. Before too long, the whole crew had gathered near the outdoor pool. Of course, this was the northern part of Florida, it was December, and it was far too cool outside to even think about bathing suits and swimming. The pool was, in fact, covered over. But there were a number of chairs set up, and the temperature was quite suitable for just hanging out.

Before too long, Inez, Mayra and Jenny expressed a desire to go to the mall for a while. Holly graciously offered them the use of her car. I knew that Inez was very close to her two cousins, and that the three of them had precious little time to spend together.

At around five p.m., we headed over to the site of our show, a mere half-mile away. It was an off-campus dance club, a favorite hangout of Jenny and her friends. It was an ultra-modern (for that era) establishment with rather dim and quite unconventional lighting in place. Dennis and Mayra did some tinkering with our usual lighting setup. They were none too pleased with how it turned out. Unexpectedly, it was Derek who came to the rescue. His photographer’s eye gave him a keen sense for lighting optimization, and the results of his efforts wowed us all.

“Dude,” said Dennis admiringly, “if you want to be our full-time lighting specialist, I ain’t gonna stand in your way.” And with that, Derek had a defined role to fill. From that point on, our stage crew became a three-person entity.

We did a full four sets that evening. Since the club emphasized dancing, we went light on the ballads, and heavy on the modern, danceable stuff. We did manage to debut the two new songs featuring Evie: “Better Be Good To Me” and “Proud Mary”. It was also a memorable night for Paul. Besides his vocal contributions to “Proud Mary”, our usually reserved bassist busted out with a spontaneous dance move. Bass guitar in hand, he moonwalked from one side of the stage to the other during our rendition of “I Can Dream About You” by Dan Hartman.

The night was a rousing success, and the club-goers wanted more at the end. We gave them a couple of encores. As we were breaking down the set, Jenny brought friend after friend up to meet us. She thanked us profusely.

“I know I suggested last year that you come down to Gainesville and play here,” she gushed. “But I never dared to dream you’d actually do it!”

Later on in our hotel room, tucked under the covers, Inez pressed up against my side. “You know,” she said with a suggestive lilt in her voice, “after tonight, we’ll be staying at my parents’ house for the next week, which means we’ll have to behave ourselves.”

We didn’t get much sleep that night.

December 28-31, 1984

Miami, Florida

Florida is a long state from north to south; the drive from Gainesville to Inez’s place took nearly six hours. Jenny, who planned to spend the rest of the holidays with her parents, came along with us. We arrived to find Javier and Lupe anxiously awaiting our traveling party. They’d taken time off from their business for the holidays, and had just arrived from Puerto Rico the previous day. This was a Christmas tradition for them.

“Next year,” I said to Inez as we neared her place, “if finances permit, I’d love for us both to spend Christmas in Puerto Rico with your parents and relatives.”

My girlfriend beamed when she heard that. “You know there’s nothing I’d like better,” she smiled at me.

Lupe had prepared a huge feast for all of us. Despite our ravenous appetites, there was plenty of food to go around. Mike showed up a little after six. With Javier and Lupe on vacation, he’d taken over managing the business.

With no gig scheduled for that night, we decided to visit our favorite Miami salsa club. The entire gang came along, and despite the presence of a few reluctant dancers – notably Dennis, Paul and Derek – a good time was had by all. In particular, Dave and Eileen, who’d gotten a taste of salsa dancing at Lisette’s big party, really got into it. By the end of the night, they were nearly keeping up with Inez and me.

“You know what?” Dave said to me. “This salsa music is awesome. I’m a percussionist, and the beat that some of these salsa artists lay down is incredible.”

I also had a lengthy chat with Mike that night. Again, he’d gone from dance partner to dance partner all evening. He was a good-looking guy who knew how to cut a rug, and the ladies seemed to gravitate to him.

“So, Mike,” I said with a grin, “it doesn’t look like you have plans to settle down any time soon.”

“Nope,” he laughed. “I’m happily single, and not looking to end that. My sister’s more of a romantic, but she’s between relationships right now.” I’d heard that Jenny had broken up with her boyfriend a few months previously.

I, of course, spent the night at Inez’s house ... in her dad’s study, as before. Evie stayed in the guest bedroom. Dave and Paul opted to stay at Mike’s bachelor pad. Everyone else stayed at Jenny’s place; the house was quite large, and her parents were more than welcoming. At least that was the story publicly related to all concerned. However, Mayra tipped me off about something the next day. “Your sister didn’t stay here. She tiptoed out, and went over to Mike’s place with Dave.”

It sure sounded like Dave and Eileen were the only couple in our group who’d managed to land private accommodations, perhaps in an extra room in Mike’s place. I adopted the same attitude I’d maintained since they started dating: They were consenting adults, and it was none of my business.

The next evening, the 29^th, was when Lightning in a Bottle made our debut on the Miami club scene. The venue was quite similar to the club in Gainesville; perhaps it was less dance-oriented, but it had a modern layout and very subdued lighting. Derek once again worked his magic, and in short order, all of us were quite happy with the setup.

To give this new audience a taste of our style, we started off with our usual opening number, “Edge of Seventeen”, followed by “Heartbreaker”. But even though we were quite a distance from our regular stomping grounds, we wanted to let those on hand know where we were from ... in a fun way, of course.

“We’re a New Jersey-based band,” I said to the audience before the next song. “And there’s a rule, almost a law, in New Jersey which states that every cover band needs to include in every show a song or two from a certain legendary rocker.” I said no more, as we went right into the next tune. It was, of course, Springsteen’s “Dancing in the Dark”. It went over well; so well, in fact, that we followed it up with another Bruce tune we’d just learned, “Pink Cadillac”. Later in the show, we gave them “Thunder Road”.

That was day one of our three-day run of shows in the Miami area. On day two, we took our talents to South Beach, as LeBron James would put it in the year 2010. That’s right, we played at a swanky club in Miami Beach, just a few blocks from the ocean. This was a hard-partying scene, perhaps even more so than the clubs we’d played at the Jersey shore. Bouncers and security folks were everywhere. But our audience was generally well-behaved, and we were pleased to notice quite a few attendees who were there for the previous night’s show.

“I love this place,” Mike grinned at me between sets. “It’s loaded with gorgeous women of all nationalities. It’s the best pick-up joint in the area.”

I just laughed. “Are you ever not on the prowl?”

“Well, let’s see. When I’m asleep, and ... when I’m asleep.” We both cracked up.

“I have a prediction,” I told him. “Someday, you’ll fall hard and fast for someone. And when it happens, I’ll be the first to say, ‘I told you so.’”

Just then, Inez happened to walk up. “No, you won’t be the first, sweetie. I’ve been telling him that since he hit puberty and turned into Doctor Love. When he falls for someone, he’s going down, big time.” Mike just looked at his cousin with an are-you-nuts expression, causing Inez to giggle.

Mike’s shameless playboy ways aside, he was a good guy at heart who would unfailingly go the extra mile to help out a group of friends. And he’d really come through for us regarding our New Year’s Eve engagement, a gig at one of the best-known clubs in downtown Miami. Mike, it turned out, knew someone who was an acquaintance of the club owner. He’d gotten a list of references from Holly and Annie and submitted them to the club owner, who must have liked what he saw.