Date: Mon, 16 Sep 1996 01:15:36 -0400
Subject: Pollo Del Mar's Lost Weekend (really long)

Well, I know everybody is back at work this monday morning, hopefully still glowing from some surf music event that you either played at or went to hear. I thought I might let you know how we Pollo's spend our weekends.

Saturday 9AM. THE EMERYVILLE CENTENNIAL PARADE.

OK...Emeryville? East Bay town near Berkeley and Oakland, mostly industrial warehouses, superstores and outlet malls and loft/condo dwellers. Racially mixed but definitely sparsely populated. Our float awaits us in the parking lot of Baker Marble & Granite (and we are dubbed "Pollo Del Marble" for the duration). Yes, it's a real float with streamers and decorations. We load our equipment on and drive down to the Emeryville City Hall to queue up for the parade. We get a feel for what it is like to play while trying to stand up on a moving vehicle: SURFING! Well, we take our place, but the parade doesn't start for another hour, and we won't be moving for another half hour after that. To kill time we start to play, and pretty soon many of the other parade participants have come around to check us out. They include the Shriners (they're in their miniature cars!), the mechanics from the garage where we are parked, the ROTC guys in camouflage, painted faces and M-16s (loaded?), and Emeryville's oldest living residents who have been abandoned in a Mazda Miata that is parked next to our float...

Finally we get rolling and are joined by Katherine, wearing a grass skirt and leopard bikini, and Craig in polyester disco suit with grass skirt, Elvis wig and huge cigar. The first leg of the parade is through the industrial section of town, although families of all persuasions seem to come out of nowhere and dance along to our surf beat. We stop in front of Baker M & G, where we play "The Blue Rider" for our friends and family who have gathered for a Texas style BBQ. Stopped in front of a garage further down the street, the mechanics come out and proclaim their everlasting devotion to Katherine who has been doing the Hula non stop for a half hour by now. We start toward a more populated stretch... people see the marble surfboard attached to the hood of the truck and hear our sounds ricocheting towards them. One woman comes right up to the float to book us for a Pearl Harbor memorial show. Craig, who is by now our acting manager books us on the spot, although the details will have to be worked out later, as we are in the middle of a killer version of "Death Valley Daze." As we pass over the Amtrak trainyard, we completely indulge ourselves with a 10 minute feedback laden psycho-jam. Next stop: the Judges' stand. We play "Slaughter on 10th Avenue" in honor of Emeryville's wild west justice system.

We pull over at the end of the parade to pack up for the ride back, but we agree that we should get back on the float and play on the ride home. Well the parade route is still closed of so we have to take a detour down San Pablo Ave., a major road through Oakland. People here didn't know a thing about any parade, and it must have been pretty surreal to see the float with disco dancer, hula girl and surf band (blaring at full volume) driving through town. We get back to the warehouse for the BBQ; finishing up "2314-B" for our well doused friends.

Coda: In an obvious example of political graft and corruption, we find out that our float only came in second. But this is Emeryville after all.

**Hint for certain success to all surf bands: Get a Hula dancer!

Sunday 11AM: THE NITRO BIKINI INVITATIONALS

Last month, Rick from the Woodies calls and tells me about a show he is helping to book: The Nitro Bikini Nationals. A hot rod show, with live surf music all day, and other wild enticements. Wild doesn't even begin to describe what was going on... We pull up to The Players Billiard Club in Belmont. Custom cars line the street. A nitro dragster is pulled up next to the flat-bed stage. First up, a chat with Phil Dirt who promises that the KFJC benefit, all live surf CD will be available by the middle of October. Many friends from our mailing list are met and the appearance of Big Wave Dave makes it an official event.

The Berzerkers, all attired in Hawaiian shirts (as are we) are ready to go on. The wet, overcast sky is giving way to blistering sun and humidity. The Berzerkers sound great and are ripping through a set, equal parts mayhem and passion. But what's this? a High School cheerleading troupe has arrived for no apparent reason. They check out the surf music and immediately start doing line dance routines to John (bass) and Sam's (drums) rhythmic beat. The Berzerkers finish up with a Hendrix instrumental, with Dino on guitar, bending notes and minds.

Oh, now I see what's up. The Cheerleaders are here to instruct the crowd on how to dance "The Macarena". Mind you that the crowd is mostly gearheads and grease monkeys, surf music fans and teenage boys who heard that the Miller girls were going to challenge the Bud girls in volleyball. As we are setting up our gear (Pollo guitarist) Jono got sucked into the girl-squad and was soon doing the Macarena.

Our set got off to a great start... "Penetration" into ""Teleport," then "Snow Crash" and "Take Your Clothes Off" but was stopped after that by a broken snare drum. Luckily and coincidentally, San Francisco's premier drum tech Sam Adatto (also the Berzerkers drummer) was in the house to save our set and butts.

At some point, the cheerleaders come up on stage with us, tell us that they won't get fed unless they dance some more... They request "Tequilla" and we oblige them, not wanting to starve these poor youths. We played a good set and were about to finish up when the promoter announces that it is time for the Bikini contest. We play an endless version of Endless Summer (20 min.?) while the obviously fixed event unravels... of course the Miller girl would win! (Pollo bassist Jeff had the best view and he thought the Bud girl should have won). Trophys are handed out and the promoter announces that it is time to fire up the Nitro dragster. Over the driving beat of Pipeline, we again launch into a psycho feedback jam as the dragster stars up. No matter about what we play, no one can hear us over the roar of the twin engined car. The exhaust nearly blows me into our drummer Chris. We segue "Pipeline" into "Insecticide" to close out our 2 hour set. Whew.

Next up are the Woodies, they too have all donned Hawaiian shirts. Ready to play, they must suffer an interminable wait as an arm wrestling competition is held. 45 minutes pass before the music starts again. Rick is playing live for the first time with his new rig: a British made Hi-Watt amplifier now sits on top of his 2 18" Fender Bassman cabinet. Most unusual for a strict retro guy. The Woodies play a great set, although it was rather distracting having the promoter hang out on stage with a couple of his friends, polishing the trophies. After the set, Rick tells me that this was the last Woodies show ever. Wow.

Very weird day... But big thanks to Rick for having us play!

**Hint for certain success to all surf bands: Always have a drum tech and cheerleading squad on hand!

All in all, a great weekend. Great to get out of the dingy nightclubs and play for all ages. Great to have such weirdness happen and feed off of it and turn it into music!

See ya,
Ferenc
Pollo Del Mar
https://www.pollodelmar.com

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