Red Hot

It was our first show
the band had ever played out of town.
Up north
Payson or Flagstaff or Prescott
I can't remember
always get those northern towns mixed up.
Despite what you might think, Arizona isn't all deserts
half the state is woodlands.
We managed to fit the whole band in one car.
Dick, the bass player
Evelyn, the drummer
Monty, the guitarist
Iain, the band 'manager'
and myself, the 'singer'.
We left at sundown and after an hour of driving
night had fallen.
Just outside the northern town
the traffic came to a standstill.
A whole line of cars just stopped.
Up ahead we could see one of those big flatbed trucks
completely engulfed in flames
on the side of the road.
The long line of vehicles moved slowly ahead
one at a time.
"What the fuck is this shit?"
"They probably just wanna get a look at that flaming truck up ahead. Rubber neckin'."
The closer we got the more apparent it became
what the hold up was for.
The giant inferno that once was a truck
was shooting a long line of fire across the road.
Every thirty seconds
it would shoot out
lighting up the tall trees around us
with a yellow glow.
The flame would fly across the road
retreat back for a few seconds
giving enough time for just one car to go by
before shooting flame all over the road again.
After twenty minutes or so
it was our turn.
The flame shot out
with the windows down
you could feel the heat.
The flame retreated
and we sped past it
like Super Mario in of the castle levels.
We pulled into that small wooded town
there was smoke everywhere
smelled like a campfire
looked like a fog.
Someone said they were doing a controlled burn in the forest nearby.
Didn't make much sense to me
but it sure did look cool
felt like I was in a John Carpenter movie.
Ya know, the one with the fog.
Inside the little bar
a place called 'Sundance's'
we met up with some buddies of ours
another local band from Phoenix
The Limit Club.
We were borrowing their gear for the night
so we set up our shit onstage
as the bar began to fill up
crusty, dirty, smelly, Punks
hippie chicks with dreadlocks and sweat-stained brown clothes
a few Rockabilly couples
and just ordinary looking college kids.
Before we started the first song, I addressed the crowd,
"Now, I don't know how ya'll do things up here, but down in Phoenix, everyone comes up to the front..."
Total bullshit.
In Phoenix, most people just stood in the back, sipping their drinks.
I was just seeing if they'd go for it
and surprisingly they did.
The small crowd of fifteen to twenty people stood at the front
of the modest stage.
Song after song
more and more people started moving around.
The punks moshed and ran in circles
the dreadlocked hippie chicks skanked and danced like pixies blowing in the wind
a lone bearded guy in a windbreaker
stomped his feet and pounded his fists on his legs
bouncing all around.
Later, the bartender told me
the guy was deaf and liked the vibrations the amps & drums gave off.
Cut myself up pretty bad with the broken microphone.
Got the crowd all riled up with our local favorite
'Sheriff Joe'.
And before I knew it, we were done.
I stood outside after our set
steam risin' off of me in the cold northern air.
I stood outside talking to a girl debating whether to kiss her or not.
Ultimately decided against it.
Went back inside and spent my drink ticket on a beer
joined the other band mates
everyone was standing around
drinks in hand
in-between bands a DJ was playing
that good ole' 50's Rock'n'Roll.
The speakers boomed Billy Lee Riley's gravely voice,
'My gal is RED HOT..."
we all shouted in unison,
"YOUR GAL AIN'T DOODLY SQUAT!"
our arms around each other in a big huddle
screaming the words and spilling our drinks.
We were the rowdiest gang in there that night
yelling
laughing
cackling.
Phoenix awaited us with it's one hundred and ten degree heat
while the cool northern town
gave us a break
and showed us a damn good time.