Road-Trippin' with Willie: the Allentown Adventure
By Jackdaw

"You're going where? With someone you met on the Internet?" Most of our friends thought we were nuts when we told them we planned to travel from Toledo, OH, to Allentown, PA, to see an obscure band, and that we were going to be picked up by a guy we'd never met in person, who was on his way there from Chicago. "Hey," we said, "it's not like we met him in the Megadeath chat. This is the Red Elvises!"

Willie is a Road Animal. He drove; we rode. He drove fast, but it still took a long time to get to Allentown. Pennsylvania is full of trees. And hills. And more trees. Willie is a good driver. I was glad of that, because it rained most of the way. Did I mention there were trees?

We arrived at the hotel, after a brief detour through the wilds of Allentown, during which I spotted the Rainbow Diner, the sort of mom-and-pop, open-24-hours place that I prefer to chain restaurants. We hooked up with Azariah and her pal Marc in the hotel lobby, as we straggled in all road-wrinkled and hungry. They had already dined, but after we had dropped our bags and changed our clothes, they accompanied us to the Rainbow. I can recommend the liver-and-onions special.

On to Crocodile Rock, and the Red Elvises. You wouldn't be here reading this if you didn't know what their shows are like; suffice it to say this one was full-dress, one set, Elvis medley encore, and wonderful. Azariah belly-danced onstage; hubby Ron and I bounced around in the audience. I wasn't paying any attention to what Willie or Marc were up to.

The bar itself was pretty cool; the doorman let me in, even though I was carrying a bowling pin. Maybe he figured that middle-aged women aren't too likely to start barfights. Someone has put a great deal of time and effort into covering the bar-tops and bathrooms with broken-tile mosaics, very well done. The sound system could have been better.

After the show, all of the Elvi autographed my bowling pin. Igor admired my giant peace-sign earrings, so I gave him one and he screwed it onto his ear and Ron took a photo of us as "twinkies" with matching earrings. Later, I saw him sitting at the bar, surrounded by crumpet, and he was still wearing it! Be still, my heart! While lurking about waiting for autographs, I snagged two guitar picks from the stage floor, one red, one pink, both Fender mediums. I gave Azariah the pink one, but selfishly kept the red one for myself, to be enshrined in the Red Room, a work in progress.

Breakfast at the Rainbow; I tried a local specialty called "scrapple" instead of sausage with my eggs. Picture meat-scrap hash, formed into a rectangular slab and fried crispy on the outside. Mmmmmmn! Willie drove us back through Pennsylvania, which was still full of trees. He deposited us home at Chez Strange, tired but happy, before bravely pressing on through the darkness toward the Windy City. Thank you, Willie, for safe transportation, for not snoring, and for not being a serial killer. Ron and I hope you had as much fun as we did. Let's do it again, sometime!