It started out like any other day at the beach. We had to go down the shore this weekend to clean before our next tenants arrived. It was a beautiful sunny 75 degree day with a little breeze. I decided to grab a Corona, sit on the deck and start my next book – some light reading – Manias, Panics, and Crashes by Charles P. Kindleberger. Avalon came out on the deck with her book and couple more Coronas. It was a delightful afternoon. We saw in the local paper that there was going to be a cover band at Coconut Cove from 6:00 to 10:00. We headed over at 6:30 with the kids.
The band was excellent, and so was the drink special – some sort of cherry flavored vodka and lemonade. We ate on the outside deck and watched the sun set over the bay. Then we went over to the stage area where Please, Please Me was rocking its second set. They were a versatile band that could do Green Day, Tupac, Beastie Boys, Gotye and Tom Petty. The band played in an undercover outside stage. The dance floor was a combination of boards and sand. It was a good mixture of ages. By the third “special” Avalon was getting dancey. She was having fun, but the kids were getting bored, so we left after the 2nd set. We were back at the condo by 8:30. But Avalon wanted to find another bar with a band.
We have at least 20 bars within walking distance, so we set out on a trek that I thought would be over by 11:00 or 12:00. I need my beauty sleep. I’m usually snoring away by 10:30. This wouldn’t be one of those nights. We went to the Bolero first. It’s been around since the 1940s but has been renovated and updated. It has a nice bar, dance floor and stage for bands. Too bad it didn’t have anyone under the age of 70 trying to stay upright. It should have had hover-round parking spaces.
My existence on earth has a link to the Bolero. My parents had their first date at the Bolero. They went there to see some unknown young singer named Tony Bennett in the 1950s. I wonder whatever happened to that guy.
They probably could have seen a local group called Bill Haley and the Comets or Frankie Avalon at one of the other Wildwood bars. There was a group called Bandstand playing Friday night and they were holding a 30th reunion of a long closed club called The Penalty Box – very hot club in the 1970s when the Broad Street Bullies were winning Stanley Cups. Bernie Parent still lives in Wildwood and I’ve seen him while riding bikes with my son. After 5 minutes and 2 beers for $10, we realized that heaven’s waiting room with a band playing 1950s stuff was not cutting it. This is when the night got interesting.
We decided to walk to our old fallback bar – The Shamrock. The description dive bar does not do justice to The Shamrock. The owners of this fine establishment won’t go broke due to the upgrades they have made, since they haven’t touched the place since the 1970s. I don’t know why, but I feel totally comfortable in dark, dive bars where people are real and your shoes stick to the floor. We arrived at our destination at 9:00 pm. It wasn’t crowded and it was quiet. It was just the lull before the storm. There was no initial indication that we would spend the next 6 hours having the times of our life and meeting an array of characters and crazies. That’s right. We stumbled out of The Shamrock at 3:00 am.
This bar had a part in my kids being brought into this world. Back in 1989 when I had a shore house with my buddies and Avalon was in the shore house next door with her friends, we all piled into a couple cars on a rainy Saturday afternoon and headed to Wildwood and got drunk at The Shamrock. The rest is history. I think they haven’t cleaned the floor since 1989.
Last night the entertainment was provided by Billy Jack. He’s been performing there for years. There isn’t a stage, so he performs with his acoustic guitar behind the bar. The bartenders have to duck when they pass him or they might get wacked in the head. Jack the bartender is a man of few if any words. Six hours in his bar and he didn’t speak a word. The barback guy didn’t have to worry about getting hit in the head, because he was a midget – or height challenged to be politically correct. I immediately liked Billy Jack. He played an excellent guitar. He clearly enjoyed himself. He had a good sense of humor. And he played all the songs we liked.
He played Pink Floyd, Tom Petty, Eagles, Neil Diamond, Van Morrison, Rolling Stones, and twenty or thirty other bands. And of course George Thorogood.
He also played this little ditty last night – Camel Toe.
Many of the songs triggered memories from the past. Paradise by the Dashboard Light was the first song I ever danced to with Avalon at the Princeton Bar & Grill in 1989. American Pie was always the last song of the evening at the Princeton. As the night progressed and beer after beer was consumed, it got progressively weirder. Avalon made friends with multiple characters. A divorced woman told her her life story while the music played. I even got a fist bump from an old codger as congratulations for landing Avalon. I got another chuckle and an old memory when I went to the men’s room. You know you are in a top notch establishment when the men’s room contains one long trough as the urinal – a throwback to The Jailhouse in my college years.
Billy Jack kept everyone involved. He handed out tamborines and drums. Each side of the bar competed in singing contests. Our side of the bar were the assholes. The other side were the shitheads. I was mocked by a NY Giants fan for the zero Eagles Super Bowl trophies. Luckily, I’m a happy drunk. A bunch of Millenials came into the bar around midnight. This is when it got surreal. A little old guy that looked like this with a sailor hat began to dance with the 20 something hotties. He was like a creepy energizer bunny as he circled the bar dancing with anyone who didn’t run from him. He eventually boogeyed with Avalon and one of her many new friends. Then it got funnier. Creepy old guy is evidently a regular and Billy Jack lets him up on stage to play one song – Wipe Out.
Shockingly, he was actually good. Not this good, but his guitar playing was better than adequate.
By the end of the night, Avalon had made ten new friends, Billy Jack was announcing to the bar that we were his best fans, and he was shaking my hand and telling me how lucky I was to have snagged Avalon. I highly recommend spending 6 hours in a dive bar to lift your spirits. I’m looking forward to my vacation in a few weeks when we can go back and visit our new friends.
