Fan of the Month!
Interviewed by Kayt

For the record, what is your name? Rebecca Ester Vargas Where were you born, and where did you grow up? I was born January 10,1977 in La Mesilla, Guatemala (Google-Earth that!) to hippie parents, trying to save the world. They should have been worried about their own behinds; Guatemala was not the safest of places in the late 70's. Once I was born, they got the memo and moved us to much safer Texas. Ha. My mother and father divorced and Mom decided we'd relocate. So in 1986 my mother, my brother and I moved, one last time, to the safe, very extreme south, Key West, Florida. What were your main interests, entertainment and otherwise, growing up? Any obsessions you don't mind people knowing about? Growing up in Key West my interests included the pool, the beach, the boat and the boys. As I got older, my interests turned to reggae shows on the beach, lying out by the pool, going out on the boat

and, all the while, flirting with boys. Music was always with me. I always carried a boom box with something blasting out of it. Not much has changed really except now I have a car stereo to blast.

Obsessions? Learning, listening, seeing truth. Being kind (even when I don't feel like it) and helping out in whatever ways I can.

Tell us about your musical endeavors and any musical instruments you play…
As a kid I took piano lessons and that's where I learned to read music. Music came pretty easy to me. It was a family affair; my mother and father met because of music. She was the opening act for my dad's band, in Lima, Peru. Her ride was late, or a no show, or something. My dad ended up giving this Sweet 16 a ride home in his tan VW bug (secretly their guitars made out in the backseat!). The largest room in my father's house is the music room, filled with keyboards of different sizes and guitars that line the walls in every shape, size and color (nothing like Oleg's balalaika though). My brother and I stayed with my father every summer. The music den was the room in which my brother and I slept. My dad would wake us each morning in his very own, awesome way, by creeping into the room and beginning quietly, fiddling with the synthesizers, starting out soft and slowly, building layer on layer, until it sounded like a Pink Floyd concert was in the room. We'd finally open our eyes to Daddy-o standing over the pull-out bed, playing a guitar, fingers flying. I never told him but I always heard him come through the door, I just pretended to be the world's hardest sleeper and little brother always followed suit. We were lucky to have the world's coolest father. I love you, Daddy!

In middle school I played the cornet, not clarinet, the cornet, like a little trumpet. Initially, I thought I wanted to play the flute. I got my lil' flute, played it for like a nanosecond, but it just wasn't the fit. I desired a more powerful sound. I’m pretty sure the household secretly wished I’d stuck with that little flitty flute. They suffered through lots of shrill cornet practices. I brought my band homework home. Playing chords, C, D, F, and all the rest, over and over. I was a 10-year-old perfectionist. Consequently, I flew through "beginner band," excelled in "intermediate band," and found myself second chair in "honor band." I played out my heart and soul but still wanted more out of music. So I became friends with this hip teacher, Mr. Hall, who was thinking of starting up a "jazz band." Once we got the "jazz band" going, I told my "honor band" teacher "buh-bye," took a couple of cool kids along with me, and we jammed! It's amazing what kids at age 13 are capable of; we even had a real recording session in a true blue studio, called conch recordings. Where is that tape?

What accomplishments are you most proud of at this point in your life? I was in a circus called "circus of the kids." I don't know if that is really an accomplishment, but it was fun! Have you ever flown through the air on a flying trapeze? Or been spun like crazy on a Spanish web? If you get the chance, don't pass it up. In 2001, I opened up a small business at age 23, against all kinds of odds. I’m pretty proud of that.

What are your favorite movies?
Life is Beautiful, Weird Science, Forrest Gump, A Clockwork Orange, Pee-Wee Herman's Big Adventure, Natural Born Killers, A Night on Earth, A Little Romance, Fast Times at Ridgemont High, Best in Show, Rock 'n Roll High School, Annie, The Never-Ending Story, Back to the Future, It All Happened at the County Fair, The Shining, The Pist and the Fury (yes, the “Pist”), Don't Tempt Me, Eddie Murphy's Raw & Delirious, The Jerk, A Raisin in the Sun, Slingblade, Bill Cosby's Himself, Finding Nemo, The Wall, Drop Dead Fred, Fight Club, Popeye, American History X, Clue, A Chorus Line, Murder by Death, Pumping Iron, The Muppet Book and many, many more!!!.

Do you have any favorite books?
The Emperor Wears No Clothes, The Cress Faerie Book, and my trusty writing book.

What music are you into, in addition to Red Elvises?
I have recently discovered a Celtic-punk group called The Kissers - if they get near a town near you, run, don't walk, to see the show, and tell Peter Colclasure I sent you! The Rapture – got to get yourself into it, funky and fun to dance to! Jaffa Rose - a super-green, super fresh group. Get hip!

Otherwise... You see I have this uncle, that, for as long as I can remember, has been introducing me to music that I would grow to love. He started with this when I was a baby. Reggae is the first kind of music I remember groovin' to. My uncle had this green truck... I remember listening to Steel Pulse and the Killer Bees while we were driving along. Before my brother was born, Uncle A. was the original, primary, baby-sitting service. We spent a lot of time in this truck listening to music. Uncle A. smoked funny, cheap-looking cigarettes and laughed a lot. I didn't always understand what he was laughing about, but I knew we were having a ball. He introduced me to an array of music of which reggae was only the beginning. (I went to visit him recently and it just so happened Red Elvises were playing in a nearby town so it was cool switching roles; I got to familiarize him for once, to some roken music!! Needless to say, he's hooked, citing Red Elvises as one of the most unique bands he's ever seen.) Uncle A. cultivated my music tastes, introduced me to everything, from Chet Atkins to Joe Arroyo, Pat Benatar to Smokey Robinson. The last time I was there, we were listening to Elton John and The Pretenders - LOUD!! - on kick ass speakers. I love you Uncle A.,"Let's get Buzz Aldrin."

I did all right on my own too. As a teenager (aside from my reggae music) I turned to sounds like the Beastie Boys, The Misfits, Minor Threat, The Pixies, The Smiths, Jane’s Addiction, Sex Pistols... You know, angry stuff to get drunk to. I sang along to The Police, The Beatles, Dolly Parton, Eric Clapton, Billie Holiday, Elvis, Fats Domino, Sam Cooke, Blondie, Simon and Garfunkel, Etta James, Steve Miller Band and lots of random ‘50s music. I had this '82 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme that, for whatever reason, only picked up one station, one that only played ’50s music with virtually no commercials. Now I had my trusty battery powered boom box at all times, nestled between the seats. Always ready (extra batteries in the glove compartment) and available to play whatever tape or CD desired while entertaining. But truth be told, if I was in it alone, my one radio station was on and I was going down the street singing "lollipop, lollipop, oh, lolli, lolli, lolli...." in a car called Ester. So you see, my music tastes are sort of all over the place.

When, where, how, etc. did you first hear and experience Red Elvises?
It was the Thursday before Fantasy Fest. I heard there was a "pretty good" band playing, down at what we locals call "the dirty bird.” It is much better known as The Green Parrot, a great place that has been serving drinks since like 1809. I’m not even exaggerating, the place is more like a museum that happens to serve libations. My friend Robin and I didn't make it down 'til like 11:30pm. This may seem unusual, but in our town this is when the party is just getting started. In the city of Key West the bars don't close until 4:00am. There's just no place like home... Anyway, it was the Thursday before Fantasy Fest. (For you out there that aren't savvy, I should say that Fantasy Fest is an event that has become a tradition in Key West. scheduled each year for the last week of October. The Fest is a week long event, full of debauchery and mayhem. It wraps up with a parade on Saturday on Duval Street with attendance something like 100,000. Imagine that many screaming maniacs all on eight or nine small city blocks, just 90 miles from Cuba. Think Mardi Gras with a Halloween twist. Like that isn't enough, each year we get an extra hour of crazy, because this Saturday every year is when all around the country time "falls back”).

Okay, so we made it through the already crowded streets to the "dirty bird.” Generally it's pretty easy to navigate, but because of the time of year it was hard to even get through the door. From across the sea of fairly naked tourists, onstage we can make out lots of animal prints and one huge red guitar(?). Keep in mind this was before I knew what I know now (the type of instrument Oleg plays). The front man for the band announced they would be taking a short break. It was Igor, of course; even from that distance, I noticed that distinguishing gap in his huge, smiley smile. Robin and I were sober, so we got right out of there. Off to a place where we could more easily fetch a drink or five. At another bar we bar ran into my little brother, now playfully dubbed "Large,” who was on his way down to the "dirty bird" to see what was shakin.' We told him of the band in their zany zoot suits, and we quickly threw back some shots and ordered some beers "to go.” Again, gotta love this town, no open container laws, all year round. We made it back, much better, now well lubricated. We made our way to the stage to see what would become my favorite band. Somehow, I didn't dance during the first song. I think it was hard concentrating on drinking and not spilling my Guiness. I finished the beer without spilling a drop when my ears pricked up. They had started a new song, one with a reggae riff, "what the....? "Winter Reggae!” I lost it!!!! My body started moving and wouldn't stop - I didn't want to stop! The music had hold of me and I loved every minute of it. They finished with "Juliet,” the song that I woke up singing and couldn't get out of my head for a month. So, now I’m a "red head.” God bless the band.

The second time I saw Red Elvises was four days later, 50 minutes up the Keys at a place called The Hurricane Hole. Over the wild weekend, I put together a group of people to make the trip to see Red Elvises on Marathon Key. Now for you city folk, to drive an hour is regular everyday stuff. To we who reside in Key West an hour is a very long way to drive. Keep in mind, our town is two miles wide and just four miles long. People bike and walk everywhere. When driving, if you're not there in five minutes or less you passed it. It was a Tuesday and with a very long week now behind us, we, as a town, were exhausted. My group dwindled, people citing boring things like, "sleep" and "work tomorrow" as excuses not to make the trip "all the way up to Marathon.” Even Robin started acting like she, also, couldn't (whatever, "can't" lives on "won't" street) make it somehow and she lives in Big Pine, a mere 15 minutes’ drive from Marathon, just one Key south. Deflated, I figured "Well, I guess no happy, dancing music for me either."

The band went on at 9:00pm. This is about the time that I was gearing up for a "tea party" with my 6-year-old friend, Kaylee. That’s when I got the call. Good ol' Robin had come to her senses. We weren't going to miss out on seeing Red Elvises after all. Yes!!

Now I was in a dilemma.

I’m sure that many of you can understand this... I had just promised a 6-year-old a "tea party" and bedtime story. The band went on at 9pm, it was already 9:05 and I had an hour long drive ahead of me. My first thought was to rush through the "tea" and story. Then I thought, this is my friend, she may be six but I had to level with her. I gently explained that I had to go to a very important rock show, with Robin. At first Kaylee looked at me in protest, but then she did something I’ll never forget. She started looking for something, then pulled from a pink patent leather purse two plastic rings that when you flip a tiny switch, flash red. This child understood everything.

I made Robin meet me in Aisle 7 of Winn-Dixie; I had to use the restroom and didn't want to divert too far from US 1. With our flashing red rings, we made it in record time - but once again, as we walked in Igor announced the short break they'd be taking. We waited anxiously for their return. They got back to the stage and what can I say but.. We danced our asses off. Now, they began their finish, after all that... "YOU WANT SOME MORE?" I stilled longed for "Juliet.” I wasn't sure if we missed it in the first set but I had to ask. Igor couldn't hear me over the roar of the crowd, so I jumped onstage, begging for "Juliet,” the song that haunted me for days. He finally heard my plea and said "Gimme a kiss,” so I did. I got my wish; once again Red Elvises rocked my world.

About how many times have you seen them?
Interviewer’s Note: Rebecca didn’t record an answer for this question but if I’m doing the math correctly, and based on what she has told me in various conversations, she has seen the band four times so far. I’m sure that number will go up this year!

What is it about Red Elvises that draws you to them, that you like the most?
At first, it was the show, the showmanship. The extreme talent that they posses is almost extra. The light-hearted fun, the come as you are, whoever, whatever you are, was the initial ticket to my heart. I like watching them. Igor and Oleg, like one entity or fraternal twins, the faces, the wild expressions. Elena, with her beauty and effortlessness, she's every man's Russkie dream. Adam, a cute blur of arms and hair. Together a sight to behold. I started collecting CDs, devouring lyrics and what info I could find... I can't get enough.

What's the farthest you've traveled to see them? And do you have a good story around that?
[It was a] ...long, long trip... My grandmother's mother passed away. Don’t feel bad though, Mema was an old lady who lived a great life, it was just her time. I’m only sorry I never got to take her to a Red Elvises show, though I have a strong suspicion she may have tagged along from the great beyond. But that's not the long trip story I’ll tell. When people pass there is always stuff that gets left behind. The only thing that we, the living, can do is find a place for their, well... "stuff.” My grandmother asked for my assistance in the moving of the inherited items.

She arranged the plane ticket and scheduled my flight to arrive in Midland, Texas on Friday, November 17th (2006). My grandmother lives in Marfa, Texas (now Google-Earth that!). I was telling my father when Red Elvises would be in his area, referring to the flyer... when I realized I’d be missing Red Elvises in Alpine, Texas by three days.

Interviewer’s Note: I see where this is going and I like the way you think, girl! Just like me! Heh heh...

I (and don't think any of you would have done it differently) called immediately to change the ticket to the Monday, the 13th. Now this still posed potential problems. The plane was supposed to land in Midland at 4:50pm. The key word here, “supposed.” I feared the worst and hoped for the best. The band was to go onstage at 9:00pm. I had two layovers: one in Houston for twenty minutes to get from one gate to the other. So far, so good. But at the Dallas airport the layover there was an hour, almost two. The flight to Midland from Dallas, thirty minutes. I got to Dallas without a hitch. As I prepared to hurry up and wait, my brain kicked into high gear. Oh! I didn't mention, Midland airport only got me three hours closer to the show and my grandmother's house was a 3 and a 1/2 hour drive. Plus, I still had the issue of car rental and baggage claim. I found another flight to Midland that would get me there at 3:50pm. I had bought myself another hour. Though I would be getting there an hour earlier, my baggage is still on the original flight, so I crossed my fingers and held my breath. "YOU WANT SOME MORE?" I thought so...

Interviewer's Insertion: Texas is BIG so here's a map of West Texas to help you relate...