July 3, 1986
Nick stands behind the popup camper trying to help his dad line it up with the gravel pad just as one of the park’s owners (?) shows up in a golf cart and basically takes over, frantically admonishing Jed to stay off the sparse grass, a few wispy blades in the dusty ground, leaving Nick to wonder if he’s serious. This character sticks around for a few minutes after the camper gets into place, never offering a word of welcome as he relates his fretfulness before moving on to receive another family with the same brand of charm.
“He must be Happy Hector,” Irene offers.
They had joined a couple other families from the plant at a private campground in the next county, Happy Hector’s, who wanted to play off the word “hectare” since the property measured out to exactly 4 hectares. But obviously this needed to be more American sounding as the hectares are Metric and therefore part of the devil’s toolkit, right up there with hookah pipes and that kind of art that don’t look like nuthin.’ Tim thought he had better things to do this weekend so Vance tagged along. About halfway there Nick blurts out Happy Hookers to a mixed reaction in the station wagon.
The boys helped with the popup camper then set up their tent.
"Is this thing from the Army?"
"No it's just old. I think my brother was consummated in it.
"Boys."
"And now for the rules,"
"Rule#1: No farting"
"Rule#2: You're a dipshit"
"Rule#3: Get me a beer"
"NO ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES ALLOWED IN THIS FACILITY"
"Boys..."
"What?"
"Hon this is why they have their own tent, remember?"
"We got any pop at least?"
"There's cans but they're as warm as the air"
"Sounds like it's warm Pepsi time again."
So that becomes a thing, to the tune of Cold Gin...it's warm Pepsi time again-nnnnn.
"Why don't you kettleheads mosey over to the pool?"
"We'll drown."
"And?"
*****
Saturday evening found the boys watching a band set up in the rec hall around 9, after the line dancers were done. Since the quiet time started at 11 it would give them a while to get their set in. Your basic guitar/drum/bass, there's an acoustic sitting back there, who knows, maybe they won't suck.
Nick had spent the day hearing that they had seen a young male with his general description harassing the peacocks that haunt the grounds and sound off in the wee morning hours. He had no recollection of getting near the stupid things, was more fun watching a little blond ride around, but she was part of the owners’ clan so he stayed clear. They had tried more fishing at the big end of the pond, then gradually moved toward the bridge and found bigger bites there. No one in their group wanted to clean one so they just threw back in, but it was increasingly clear that Happy Hector didn't want anyone catching the big fish.
They wandered over toward the playground for a bit and mixed with the gaggle of youth standing around, for a few, then hit the swings, wondering when that band would start up after a hasty sound check. They had just started cruising back to the rec hall when there was a ONE TWO THREE FOUR, then some very crunchy electric guitar grunt to a POOM-POOM-CRACK beat. They were behind the stampede but no need to get close, the house was a rockin'.
Neither Nick nor Vance could place the track, but a nearby veteran said "oh that's the Stones."
The beat was syncopated just right, the drums the only thing tight, but right in your face, bluesy and just right. "On a Thursday night...." the singer bawled out. It was simply electrifying, Nick wondered why some band doesn't record a hard version like this.
It didn't take long, you had girls dancing with each other, laughing, the band obviously had done this a time or two and knew how to get a crowd on the same page.
"DANCE...DANCE LITTLE...SISTER, DANCE..."
Nick had to maneuver to get a good look at the hardware, the guitar was shared between a Tele and a Les Paul, the latter was doing the leads with a beer bottle slide. Bass was a sunburst P with a huge headstock, no surprise. These guys were bearded and just the right vintage, evidently cut their teeth on this stuff heart and soul.
After a couple verses they dropped to drums for a singalong, and quite a crowd had crawled out of the woodwork.
At one point the best part were about a dozen little kids all wiggling around, people couldn't stand up for laughing. Nick also saw his folks way at the fringe checking it all out, hell they're probably old enough to know some of these tunes.
Vance observes, "Most of the campgrounds must be here, hope no one gets the idea to rifle through our tents and campers."
"Jokes on them, I took a huge shit in your bag."
"Good, that's where I put your shoes."
The first number wrapped up with a double-stick snare hit. "Thanks for coming out, we're Ten Pen Alley, good rockin' crowd here tonight!"
Then the familiar opening riff to Night Ranger's You Can Still Rock In America from the Les Paul, which was as well done as could be, then they brought it down with Skynyrd's Simple Man, and so on.
At one point there's a different blond hanging around, Nick says "Hi" and she fires back a loaded "HI" with all kinds of sauce on it. He walks away.
Around this time he hears a newly familiar riff to a four-floor beat...BREEEM...BREEM-BREEM-BREEM-BREEEM...now that one he knows, Timbutt has a crappy dub of the tape, were they really gonna do Big Balls? It's happening.
There's a tap on Nick's shoulder and there stands a female, around his age, dark curly hair and smiling. "Can we talk?"
He turns to Vance who responds with a chin-out expression then motions him on.
Her name is Jo, her family pulled in this afternoon and she's wondering if he can show her around. They go to the pond, which is locked, then over by the swingset. They swing on the swings a bit then she wants to crawl through the tiles. They sit in there and talk a bit then she kisses him, on the mouth, then makes the little swirly things with her tongue. She senses he's' not interested, calls him a fucking jerk then storms off.
Nick returns to the concert scene to the tune of Yesterday with just an acoustic guitar, finally finds Vance leaning on a tree not far from where he'd left him about 20 minutes ago.
"So?"
"She didn't get my jokes."
"Sure. Did you wanna stick around?"
"We can go chill by a fire."
*****
The final morning of the trip was graciously free of peacock noises. Irene treated to hotcakes on the grille then they headed over to the worship service in the rec room, definitely a multipurpose deal there. Thankfully that Jo was nowhere in sight, but at the end of the service they were asked to join hands for prayer, Nick was shanghai'd by some family man next to him. Next time he vowed to sit by that shorter blond.
After this it was time to start tearing down. They got the tent undone and slowly packed into the wagon. Then the camper, pretty soon it was about lunchtime but they were gonna stop on the way.
At some point Jo rides up on a bike. "Nick I'm sorry about last night. I don't know why I get like that. I hope you don't hate me."
"I don't."
"Good." She hands him a folded note and rides away.
On the way home he checks it out, it basically has the same apology, some biographical data, and her phone number.
Vance asks, "You gonna call her?"
"You can."