Hot rod hullabaloo

Trouble.... on a borrowed amp!

Thanks again to the Juke Joint boys for the help with the gear

April 10 to the 13th was the official weekend for the biggest rockabilly party in North America and we're happy to say we were a part of it. We all took off Wednesday the ninth to fly down with gear in hand and six or seven hundred pages of customs & immigration documents, all done in triplicate, to ensure a smooth entry into the US of A. I mentioned that Clem had been working feverishly on all the paper work for months prior to our border crossing. He seriously had forty hours or more completing everything for all of us. With this much time and effort riding on properly processed documentation, needless to say he was nervous as to what the out come would be. We all heard horror stories of other bands trying to perform in the USA only to get the boot at the boarder, and we didn't want to become one of them.





We cleared Customs in Vancouver patiently waiting in line for our turn at the desk. When we were finally signaled to meet the officer the tension was high. It was like we were trying to do something we weren't suppose to be doing, and like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar, wide eyed and pale, Clem stepped up to the counter.





Then it happened.





The Customs officer with his "business only" demeanor spoke but three words.



PASSPORTS PLEASE .......... NEXT





We all got the same treatment, then ushered into the baggage pick up room to continue along for the pre boarding security screening.


We went through all the emotions; confusion, disbelief, fear then finally jubilation. All except for Clem who also experienced anger at the fact that after all the work no one even wanted to see the stack of papers.





I now know what those born again religious cult people felt like when the end of the world was wrongly predicted and with the rising sun of a new day the acknowledgement of humiliation and social discredit must have seemed worse than the demise of our world by some cosmic force.





We made it through with no issues. Maybe they knew all was in order? Maybe we present ourselves much more respectable than we think?


Either way the work was not in vain. Like an insurance policy Clem did it right. Had we been challenged for documentation Clem would have had opportunity to show every one how efficient he was. Lou and I both appreciate the extra work and effort he put forward in making this happen, and believe me he didn't miss a thing!


In short we don't want to mess with the boarder officials cause they really are there for all of us, and make no mistake these guys are an integral part of our first line of defence.





Well what can you do in the Vancouver airport with three hours to kill and a successful completion of what was perceived as a major hurdle to our big adventure?





Stay tuned for more stories of this kick ass weekend!





Nancy loses her clothes


Carolyn loses at slots


Tracy loses her lunch


Monty loses at bowling


Evan loses his name


Clem loses his dance lesson

Clem and Nancy were just about to start learning a jive when I unfortunately butted in to tell him that Tom (from VLV) had a problem with the supplied bass rig and could use some help. Clem always up to help rushed away from the dance floor to grab his bass for the next show.

Nancy was pissed ... at me!


Lou loses his drums





The Car Show


The Juke Joint Gamblers


The Vendors


The Bands


The Beer


The Airport rumba