Hootie and the Drumstick

I am a total sucker for catching "has-been" bands and performers live in concert. If you are an aging rocker...one-hit wonder...80's band, chances are, I'll find my way to your show come hell or Konocti.

Over the past five years, the Marin County Fair has provided me with annual entertainment ranging from Peter Frampton (actually a great performer, but the crowd consisted of folks my parents age holding up their Frampton Comes Alive albums), KC and the Sunshine Band (which was basically KC, one other original band member, and a bunch of 20-something's that resembled old C+C Music Factory video extras), The Village People (do I have to say anything more?), and the homecoming of Marin's native sons, Huey Lewis and the News.

My favorite performance was four years ago when Eddie Money headlined the fair. My friend Joana pulled me up to the front row where we immersed ourselves in a sea of white trash (for the record, Joana and I were the only two front row people who were not wearing either acid wash or sporting a mullet). Let me say, the drugs have not been kind to Eddie. He looks about 25 years older in person than he really is, and he's swollen and leathery. I joked that he must have come out on stage from an iron lung, as he was sweating profusely and panting between singing, smoking cigarettes, and playing the saxophone.

Eddie started playing new material, but the response from the audience was lukewarm. About midway through his set, Eddie started pulling out the classics. By the time he'd belted out Baby Hold On, Think I'm in Love, and Take Me Home Tonight, the crowd was on fire. He started spinning around with this groovy little dance of his, and when he sang Two Tickets to Paradise, he started reaching out in the crowd giving his fans a high five. Joana, being just over five feet tall kept jumping up trying to shake his hand. I merely reached over and EDDIE MONEY SHOOK MY HAND!

In a word...it was fabulous. (You are all welcome to touch the hand that touched greatness at any time).

Then there was the Rick Springfield concert up at the former Caesars Tahoe a few years back. Once again, Joana and I were there in a crowd we didn't quite fit in with. Instead of white T, it was a bunch of women who were still trapped in the early 80's. I don't think this many mini-skirts, pump heels, and big bangs have been seen this side of 1984. Joana could barely see Rick Springfield as the woman in front of her had bangs that were literally pumped up three inches high.

As if the crowd wasn't entertaining enough, Rick Springfield was celebrating his 50th birthday on this particular evening and had apparently begun his celebrations prior to showtime. After his first song, Rick addressed us with this:

"It's GREAT to be back in the MILE-HIGH CITY! WOOOOOOOOO!"

Uh, buddy. You're in Tahoe, not Denver.

Rick proceeded to pull women on stage to sing for him, kept freaking out that his guitar was out of tune, and would take bouquets of roses women threw at him on stage and smash them against his guitar, creating an amazing rose petal confetti effect. (I can only hope he's this spectacular when I catch him this Friday evening live at the Marin County Fair! Speaking of the MCC, the line-up of performers is absolutely spectacular. Along with Rick Springfield, Eddie Money is coming back, and there will also be performances by Joan Jett and The Nelsons. If you have no other plans this weekend, you should take the trek to San Rafael).

With these stories (and countless other untold gems) about has-been bands, you can only imagine my reaction when I received an invitation to the 2006 Extron Bash at Infocomm.

"Headlining the 2006 Extron Bash...Hootie and the Blowfish!"

Every year at InfoComm, Extron puts on a killer party with great bands, games, food, and drinks. Last year they rented out the Thomas & Mack Center in Vegas. This year, the party was at Sea World in Orlando.

I have to say, I wasn't sure whether Extron shelling out for a band of Hootie's caliber made me happy or sad. Part of me was thrilled that Hootie was getting some work. The other part of me felt bad for them. Here was one of the biggest bands of the 1990's and now they were being relegated to playing private parties for AV geeks. I mean, I know they were the Huey Lewis & the News of the 1990's...a band who probably shouldn't have made it as big as they did...but man, this was a tough break.



Still, here it was, a chance to see Hootie live and for free. I wasn't about to miss my opportunity. I was able to get my girlfriend Irika into the party and we headed straight to the main stage to stake out a good spot to catch the show.

Hootie came out strong. Lead singer Darius Rucker has a great voice and the band, for all my smart comments, really are a decent live act. Surrounding us, a sea of mostly white middle-aged men/AV geeks stand tall, barely tapping a toe to the music. I once again feel sad for Hootie. Irika and I step up our dancing and begin chanting "HOOTIE! HOOTIE!" Behind us, a guy with an amazing mullet is cutting a rug as if he can feel the energy we're trying to bring to the crowd.

Towards the end of the set, I start working my way up to the front. I am spotted immediately by an industry friend, and he pulls me to the front of the stage. I am just a few feet away from Hootie as they play Only Wanna Be With You and Hold My Hand. At the end of the show, the guitarist starts throwing guitar picks out into the audience. Suddenly the crowd awakens and the scene is like one of those videos on America's Funniest Home Videos, where a bride throws a bouquet and there is a scramble (short of blows) to get the bouquet. I can honestly say few things are sadder than watching middle-aged men fight over guitar picks...from Hootie and the Blowfish nonetheless.

After the crowd clears, Irika spots a coveted Hootie guitar pick out of the corner of her eye. Somehow it was missed in the earlier chaos. I reach over the velvet ropes and grab it for Irika. As we are marveling over her souvenir, I spot a roadie clearing up the stage. I ask if I could possibly get one of those nifty guitar picks as well. He winks at me, says "I can do even better," and walks to the drum set to hand me a Hootie drumstick. This is nirvana - what a great memento of a truly Hootie-tastic evening. Thanks again, Roadie!