On the Red, Red Road: 5 Days, 4 Cities, 4 Shows, 2 Much Fun
By Jackdaw

Tuesday, April 10, 2001. Despite waiting until the last moment, the Rokenrol hood decal for the Redmobile did not arrive before we left Ohio. We had to content ourselves with the ones we already had, and our REDLVIS vanity plates. I'd had my hair bleached at the truckstop salon, and Ron put in the red dye, with good results. We crammed the car with homebrewed beer and multiple outfits of red garb, and set out upon our journey.

Rain, then just gray weather. We hardly noticed; all along the turnpike, at every toll booth and McDonald's, I handed out the Red Elvis pencils I'd had made, telling everyone to check out the band's website. We found my neice's place in Chicago and called Willie to check in with him and make plans to meet at Fitzgerald's, the club in Berwyn, a Chicago suburb.

Don't go anywhere near Chicago without a vehicle with good brakes, accelleration, and suspension, and that can't cruise at a sustained 75 mph.. Despite insane traffic and rough roads, we made it to the vicinity of Fitzgerald's. Realizing that we had overshot the address, we turned around and headed back the way we'd come; I'd just spotted the bar, and the Red Elvises' van, when we heard That Whistle. Oleg was out in the parking lot, talking on his cell phone, and had seen us go by! We circled the block, then pulled in next to the van. Warm greetings from the guys, and open admiration and appreciation for the car, and for my hair.

Got inside, found a place to hang the banner, met up with Willie and his daughter Marty who'd driven in from DeKalb for the show. Turned out that she recognized Ken, aka Gremlen, from seeing his band, The Last Hip White Boys. I circulated among the tables, playing Pencil Fairy. The crowd was a trifle sedate, even after the band took the stage; RE had to remind them to dance! Ron and I, who had danced only once before during our six years of marriage, did our best to show the 'sitters' that you don't need to dance well, as long as you have fun; they got the idea. Due to road fatigue and over-excitement at seeing RE live for the first time in six months, much of this first show is a happy blur in my memory. I do recall one young man who has a tattoo of Buddy from Six-String Samurai from the knee to the ankle of one leg! In case you were there, I was the one in the red satin pajamas, and Ron wore the purple hat with red yarn dreadlocks that I'd made for him.

Ron and Willie helped the guys load equipment after the show, and then we all stood around in the parking lot while the guys autographed the hood of the Redmobile (my thanks to Alma, who had a handy flashlight!) Zhenya liked the car so much, he mock-humped the hood! Ron gave the guys the case of "Triple Habanero Elvis Red" homebrew that we'd brought them, and Igor gave us a box of chocolate aligators in return. We all headed off to our much-needed rest, after planning to meet up again the next night at the Elbow Room in Chicago. Oh, and I gave Igor a vintage red necktie that I'd been saving, as a belated birthday present.

Wednesday, April 11, 2001. Parking on a Chicago side street at 3 AM is nearly impossible; Ron had to wake up before 8:00 to move the car, which he'd parked in front of a school. Some more sleep, then breakfast at a Greek diner, a look at the local Salvation Army store (I bought a red skirt, and a pair of leopard-print high-heeled mules to go on the Nice Shoes shelf), and some reconnaisance around Chicago, to find Willie's place (he'd invited us to dinner) and The Elbow Room, which wasn't open yet, so we couldn't hang the banner up ahead of time. 75 degrees, hot and muggy. Ron discovered that the film he'd had in his "good" camera the night before was Kodachrome slide film, so no one-hour photos for us.

Turkey dinner with all the trimmings at Willie's, somewhat delayed by Ron having to go back to Rikki's (our neice) to pick her up and bring her along so Willie could drive her to the show (the Redmobile is a 2-seater, a logistical difficulty I had overlooked.) Rikki is an art student, and Willie's significant other is an artist, gallery owner, and thoroughly charming woman; she charged us all with the task of trying to get Zhenya to do a show of his paintings at her gallery.

On to the Elbow Room: pouring rain and no place to park, then a mad dash to the club. Waiting in the street-level bar until the doors for the downstairs dance room opened at 9:15. RE not there yet; warm-up band the Stray Toasters, who'd come to Fitzgerald's the night before to see RE (this was the only night they had an opening band.) RE arrived, and Willie and Ron helped them carry equipment in and downstairs (no ramps or elevator.) I played Pencil Fairy, and we hung up the banner, but we were off to the side in a sort of low cave area, so I doubt if anyone saw it. Rick, whom we'd met at Fitzgerald's the night before, spotted us and came over. Ron and I dressed as red-dashiki-clad Twinkies; by this time, we had decided to save our RE shirts for daytime promotional wear.

Better rested, and after seeing Rick writing down a set list at Fitzgerald's, I managed to get a pretty good account of who was doing what, and when, except for singing. The initials are names first, instruments second.

ZG, IB, OD: Running Away; San Antone; Space Cowboy; Red Lips Red Eyes Red Stockings; 200 Flying Girls; Who's Your Daddy?

ZG, OB, ID: Scorchie Chornie; 3 Alley Cats (Z put on Phelan's stocking cap and rapped part of song); Boogie on the Beach; Love Pipe

ZG, IB, OD: Rocketman (Z grabbed crutch that a girl had leaned against stage, and used it as a 'bow' on guitar strings); I Wanna See You Bellydance

BREAK, then ZG, IB, OD: Move to the Beat (new song? not on albums; title unsure); Harriet (with Oleg playing bass and drums, Igor singing); Juliet (new song, maybe Romeo & Juliet, great!); I Will Come Back; Flaming Cheese

IG, OB, ZD: I'm Not That Kinda Guy (Z removes shirt...slight farmer tan!); Please Don't Tell Me What I Did Last Night; Susanna; (somewhere in here I lost track of who played what) Strip Joint is Closed (audience member picked up tambourine, did a good job); Sad Cowboy Song (triple drum 'solo', all of 'em banging away at once); Girl From Malibu

ONE MORE: Closet Disco Dancer

Rikki had been dancing down in front for most of the night, joined by Marty, who showed up during the break, I think. Zhenya must have liked how Rikki danced, because he autographed a guitar pick for her, even though she'd been too shy to get up on stage during "Bellydance." Mr. Phabulous and his table of goodies had remained upstairs; this was probably a good thing, because, by the end of the night, the downstairs floor was wet and the very walls were sweating from condensed exhaled breath. Willie had to go home, but, after teardown, the rest of us tried to go to an after-hours club to unwind with a nightcap.

Unfortunately, after Rick rode with the band to show them the way, and Rikki rode with Marty to direct her, and we followed as best we might, the club refused entry to anyone without an ID. Mr. Z and his lady friend didn't have theirs (neither did Ron, but we didn't get that far) and the commissar at the door got snippy when Z asked if they couldn't just mark them as 'not drinking'. "What, am I talking Japanese here? no one comes in without an ID!" Jeeze. That pretty much broke up the party; the guys went off to their hotel, and Marty and Rick came back with us to Rikki's to chat for awhile. Ron had to park in front of the school, again.

Thursday, April 12, 2001. Arranged for Willie to give Rikki a ride to Milwaukee, then waited for Phelan to call us with the name of the hotel the band would be staying at that night. Drove to Milwaukee, and stopped to locate and check out the Ale House, which brews its own ales on the premises. The band had already been there and set up, so we hung up the Rokenrol banner above the table that Mr. Phabulous had reserved for sales, and headed for the hotel with bad directions. Got lost, but a friendly gas station attendant set us right (I gave him a pencil.) Checked in, asking for a room on the same floor as the band. Ron wandered down the hall, quietly saying "rokenrol?" just as Z popped out of the room across the hall from ours. Left a pencil outside our door, then wandered out to find provisions: tequilla, OJ, vodka, and some decent beer. (The guys had sampled, and liked, Ron's homebrews.)

After a nap, Phelan saw the pencil and knocked on our door. Then he saw the bar, and we did a shot of vodka, staight out of the bottle ( after Phelan asked, "unless that's too ghetto for you?.......it wasn't.) Followed the van to the Ale House, where Willie and Rikki had already arrived, so we had dinner with them instead of sitting at the same table with the band, even though they had saved us seats. Hey, I figured they deserved some space away from us crazed fans who were quickly becoming stuck to them like limpets. Ron wore his new red Rokenrol bowling shirt over his Buddhist T-shirt, and, later, the Red-Dread hat. I wore black pants with red polka-dots, a yellow silk shirt that had had a close encounter with something red in the wash, and a red embroidered vest with mirrors. As it turns out, without planning it at all, Ron and I were wearing the shirts we had gotten married in, which was great, as this trip was sort of a belated honeymoon for us!

The crowd had swamped Phelan's reserved table, and the sound system was a tiny thing with crappy monitors, better suited to folk acts that people can ignore and talk over; despite these drawbacks, the guys sounded fine to me, if a trifle overdriven on vocals from time to time. Oleg dragged me up on stage at the start of the show, asking the crowd to appreciate my outfit and hair! Marty showed up for a third night (devotion runs in the family) and Heidi Rojo was there with a whole tableful of friends, fans, and relatives. They all wore special hats that Heidi had made for them, modelled upon a traditional Russian style; she was sweet enough to give hats to Willie and me, too! Like the King material they are, the Red Elvises graciously accepted tribute from their loyal subjects; Heidi made a silver jacket and a special hat for Igor, and brought him a kegga beer and potato chips. Phelan got a different style hat, with a special tassel, and that group of Redheads brought specially wrapped rolls of Red Elvis lifesaver candies, as well. (She gave me a roll of these for the Red Room, too.)

Each night, RE played two sets and varied the set list somewhat; every show had its own special character. There was a good, enthusiastic crowd at the Ale House, and, for those of you who care, here's that night's set list: Red Lips Red Eyes Red Stockings; Running Away; Sex in Paradise; I Will Come Back; Kegga Beer; San Antone; Space Cowboy; Who's Your Daddy?; Scorchie Chornie; 3 Alley Cats (with rap by Z, again); Telephone Call From Istanbul; I Wanna See You Bellydance (this time, Rikki got up on stage and bellydanced); BREAK; Move to the Beat; If I Set You Free; 200 Flying Girls; Voodoo Doll; I'm Not That Kinda Guy (Z strips off shirt); Please Don't Tell Me What I Did Last Night; Susanna; Strip Joint is Closed; Sad Cowboy Song (triple drums); ONE MORE: Closet Disco Dancer; ONE MORE: Rocketman; ONE MORE: Juliet; AND ONE MORE!: Love Pipe. Four encores! Is this a record?

Back at the hotel, the party started out in our room. Black'n'Tan, a promoter/publisher (Maximum Ink, a music magazine) from Madison, two ladies whose names I have misplaced, Rikki, Marty, and all the guys; if I've left anyone out, I apologize. We moved the fun to Phelan's room down the hall after the night manager knocked on the door to tell us to keep it down because the neighbors next room over were complaining about the noise! Oleg showed us all a rough cut of a video he had done for "I Wanna See You Bellydance," and then, miracle of miracles, he took it out of the machine and handed it to me, saying, "I give this to you, the Grateful Red!" Oh, be still, my heart! I think this video is being shown on Russian MTV, but not here. I asked Oleg if he'd mind if I made one copy for Willie, and he said, "Make as many as you like! I give permission!" I'm thinking of making it a video chain letter for fans; I'll send you a copy, if you promise to make five copies and give them to friends, who should make five copies, etc.. And I'm checking into copies on disk/DVD playable; please give me a while to get it done!

We gave the guys the Rokenrol banner, because it had worked out well for Senor Phabuloso to have it above the sales table, where Igor could direct the audience to look for him from the stage. I made it out of a thrift-store tablecloth, yellow felt, and fusible webbing, with long rope ties at either side to accomodate weird hanging conditions. I just scored another tablecloth, so I'll make another banner soon.

Good Friday, April 13, 2001. Phelan and Oleg stopped by our room for a little pre-departure conference, then we all met up in the hotel garage, planning to caravan on to Madison. Pulled off the highway for breakfast once we hit the suburbs; Igor spent the whole time reading Anne's thesis, with what appeared to be great interest. Oleg and I had been chatting about it the night before, and I know he e-mailed Anne that morning about some details. The guys really do care about fan activity; they asked us why we did up the car, the Red Room, etc., and I told them, "because you and your music make us very happy," which seemed to make sense to them. Anyway, they bought us breakfast (okay, we left the tip for the table) and we continued on to Madison, a comparatively short hop.

Checking into the Motel 6, all of us cracking up when the registration cards asked for "license plate number or description of your vehicle." The desk clerk didn't get it, until we told her to look out the window! This time, Ron and I had the sense to ask for a room with no neighbors, if possible. Ron ran out to re-stock the beer and OJ supplies, and then it was nap time. Black'n'Tan had invited us all to a barbeque at his place, but there was some confusion about the time frame, so that didn't quite work out. The guys collected us and we drove over to the club so they could set up and do a sound check.

The Inferno is a pretty cool place, quite large, with a great sound system and a large dance floor. It has a large seating area back from the stage, as well, furnished with classic ratty-but-cool sofas from the 50s, plenty of tables to park drinks on, and some nifty infinitely-positionable modern low-voltage lighting. In other words, if you needed to rest and cool down, there was space to do it while still being able to catch a glimpse of the band, unlike the Elbow Room, where you'd have to go upstairs (if you could fight your way through the crowd.) During the sound check, I think the band was working on a new song, something about "She's Just a Fantasy." If you think about it, it seems likely that, while on the road, this is the only way RE could work on new material. Phelan found a dark corner and crashed out for a while, after setting up his sales area and hanging the banner. I left pencils on all the ashtrays.

A quick dash out for dinner, then back to the Inferno. I didn't take a picture of Igor changing his clothes in the parking lot (in full view of the street!) but he was wearing sexy hamburger-bun print boxers! Enthusiastic crowd, many RE fans in the area, and lots of folks dressed in red. Ever since I found out that RE would play at a club called the Inferno, on Good Friday, Friday the 13th, I'd been cooking up a surprise for the band. Somewhere in all my thrift store ramblings, I'd scored a vintage, full-sized, red rayon devil Halloween costume, complete with tail and hood. Despite Ron's reluctance, I'd packed it and brought it along, trusting that by Friday night, he'd be ready and willing to wear it, and he was. At the start of the second set, we ducked aside and got him into it. Although Ron had just planned on dancing in front of the stage, the crowd was so thick that Phelan told him to just go up on stage. The look on RokenrOleg's face was priceless; he was cracking up, but he didin't lose the beat! Igor didn't recognize Ron at first, but when he did, he invited him closer, to dance and play air guitar.

I missed most of Ron's time on stage, because I was rooting around in our bag, looking for a camera that I couldn't find because it was in Ron's back pocket! Shame on me, for violating one of my own principles of partying: be here now! Luckily, Phelan snapped a picture of Ron with our other camera (thank you, Mr. Phab!) and Gremlen, who'd also shown up, took a bunch of photos and has promised to send us some. Gremlen also introduced me to Alyska, briefly; unfortunately, at that moment I was feeling decidedly unwell, the heat and fatigue catching up with my poor old head. So, Alyska, nice to meet you; I'm glad you took some pictures, too.

The set list from the Inferno: Welcome to the Freakshow; San Antone; Running Away; Who's Your Daddy?; The Show is Over; Love Pipe; Red Lips Red Eyes Red Stockings; Scorchie Chornie; # Alley Cats; Telephone Call From Istanbul; Rocketman; I Wanna See You Bellydance; BREAK; Move to the Beat (Ron as Satan); Gypsy Heart; Wait For Me; Sex in Paradise; Girl From Malibu; Flaming Cheese; Not That Kinda Guy; What I Did Last Night; Sad Cowboy Song; ONE MORE: Closet Disco Dancer; ONE MORE: Juliet.

During the break, and again after the band was done for the night, the bar turned the "filler" music up to an ungodly volume. The Elbow Room did this as well; more than once, the band discussed the idea of having their own choice of between-set music for the clubs to play, not necessarily RE music, but something they like, and that would allow the fans to talk to each other, and to the band, without having to scream at top volume.

Post-Inferno, Oleg left to dine with friends, and the rest of us went over to Black'n'Tan's place to unwind and to find Igor something to eat. Zhenya and his friend (I didn't get her name) departed after a bit; meanwhile, Ron taught Igor how to use aerosol cheese! We watched part of a movie pastiche by Michael Nesmith of Monkees fame, then headed back to the motel around 5AM. The last thing I remember that night was Oleg stopping by our room to have a beer and to say goodnight, which was very sweet of him, and unexpected. Iron Curtain aside, Ron and Oleg have similar backgrounds and interests, and they really hit it off.

Saturday, April 14, 2001. Phelan and Oleg stopped by our room just before check-out (Oleg played a practical joke that scared us silly, but I can't go into that here), then we all went out to the parking lot for good-byes and final photos. Phelan had bought a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses, and Oleg liked them so much that he glommed on to them and wouldn't give them back. Zhenya gave me a pillowcase with Mister Rock written on it in Sharpie to keep the other guys from messing with it in the van, and then they gave us a bottle of Mota Lava Fire hot sauce, too. Last-minute posters and autographs for us and friends back in Ohio; all the while, the guys were offering us the use of their cell phones so we could call home and make arrangements to continue on with them to Minneapolis. After Ron's appearance as Satan the night before, they'd announced from the stage, "Follow the Grateful Red to tomorrow night in Minnesota!", and I think they were serious about the invitation. Unfortunately, we'd made arrangements to have our dog Kitti picked up from the kennel at noon and brought home so she wouldn't have to stay boarded over Easter, and we had to go home. A few last photos when Black'n'Tan came to get shots for his magazine, big hugs all around, and RE left for points north.

After bagels and lox at an Einstein Brothers bagel shop (Phelan told me Z likes these), we headed home, exhausted but very happy. Pencils at the toll booths, crazy traffic through Chicago, and moments of concern as the Redmobile developed a case of indigestion at the Indiana/Ohio line. That's about the moment we decided to name the car "Harriet," and she must have liked that, because we made it home. The cats and the dog were happy to see us. We're still waiting for our hood decal, though.

We're glad that we aren't rock stars, and we're also glad that the Red Elvises are. After a few days and some deep conversations with them, I think that they are fairly happy with not being "big time", stadium-style rockers. Self-produced, with their own label, they are answerable to no one but themselves, which allows them the freedom to take their music in any direction they please. They draw much of their energy from being able to get up-close-and-personal with the audiences and fans in mid-sized clubs; many times, they referred to themselves as "a dance band." Oleg summed it all up neatly when he told Ron, "I make a living singing to girls. Life is good."