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After enough of having my ass handed to me at a poker table, it's time to get back to what I can do- drink beer and fake guitar solos!

Subject: Guitarist - Rock Bottom

Venues: Jolly Acres, Nashville IL, Saturday, February 4th

Things have been settling in quite well with Rock Bottom. Steve and I are having a terrific time, the money is good (better than Knucklehead), and I can concentrate on just playing guitar without the other bullshit of booking, negotiating, website, all that. Refreshing!

A couple Saturday’s ago, we found ourselves booked for a birthday party in Nashville, Illinois. Never played there. I like to go fishing down there, but never played there. Details were sketchy, but from what I gathered it was at a bar on the outskirts of town for one of the fans and friends of the band. A bit of a drive, but they ponied up the money for us, so what the hell!

While it wasn’t a terribly long drive, I decided to get a hotel room in Nashville anyway, so I could relax, enjoy the show, get as hammered as I wanted, and not have to worry about driving back to Granite. Besides, what road trip rockstar fantasy would be complete without staying in a hotel after the show?

The drive was a short one, because it’s familiar, and I was clocking about 80MPH all the way there. I pulled off I-64 to the Best Western on IL-127, and checked in. Now, there’s a little trucker’s diner called Little Nashville next door, but on my various fishing excursions I’d eaten there previously, and was unimpressed. Typical truckstop food, and not as good as say, Waffle House. I was determined to find some local restaurant in Nashville and sample the “local flavor” as I so love to do when I hit small towns. I knew there was a nice restaurant downtown in my trips here as a delivery driver. I couldn’t remember the name, but I knew where it was. Or maybe somewhere else I could discover, since it had been years since I’d been in Nashville.

Nashville is a cute little town, with some magnificent old homes along the main drag. I always take the time to admire them when I pass through. A couple have been turned into bed and breakfasts, and I have a mind to take a young lady to one sometime, just to say I did. Would be romantic, possibly. As romantic as Nashville, Illinois can get, I suspect.

I passed by a bar and grill looking place, but it didn’t seem to fit the bill. I was headed to the other place. As I approached it, to my horror I’d recognized that it was no longer the establishment that it once was, and had become a Chinese buffet. Ick! Not what I was hoping for. I circled around back past the parking lot, where the original restaurant name was displayed: “parking for The Derrick Inn”, festooned with a cartoon oil derrick. Ah! That’s what it was called. Oil and coal country here in these parts of southern Illinois. Now, like so many of the coal mines around here, it was a memory. Pity. I wanted to visit it, but I’d missed my chance years ago.

Other than the Chinese buffet, my choices were slim in this one horse town. Dairy Queen, Subway, or Hardees. After traveling to the edge of town, I doubled back and settled for Little Nashville. I bellied up to the diner counter and ordered a country fried steak with gravy and mashed potatoes, and it was as unspectacular as I figured it would be. But, it got the job done.

Time had slipped by, and I was off to discover the location of “Jolly Acres”. As best I knew, it was somewhere south of Nashville on IL127. I left the city lights of Nashville behind (basically the Casey’s General Store) and traveled into the country darkness. About 4 miles south of my favorite lake, at the crossroads of a country road, there sat a lonely building and a parking lot with an assortment of cars. A flashing lighted arrow sign which read about a birthday party pointed into the parking lot, so I figured this must be it!

Pulling into the lot, I surveyed the establishment. Painted on the side of the building was an 8 ft. black sign made to look like a Jack Daniels label which read “Jolly Acres”. This must be the place! I popped my head out of my truck, gazing off into the dark, barren, Illinois prairie that surrounded this lonely oasis. This was truly the middle of nowhere: Bum Fuck Egypt! Ha! Egypt! That’s the nickname for southern Illinois, you know!

I peeked inside to find Craig erecting his drum cage, and Jeff running cables to the sound board. It was a nice sized stage, but a little short with Craig’s cage up there. They’d created a make shift extension for Steve to stand on. The room was covered in carpet to help sound insulation, which meant I could turn up as loud as I wanted, and I did! Chuck’s gear was there set up, he was back at the hotel. Steve rolled in later, and surveyed the makeshift stage extension. It didn’t pass muster, and he tore it down, settling to sing on the floor in front of the drums.

They had an assortment of food to snack on for the party, and I made a small plate to sample. I wasn’t really that hungry. Beer was on the house, which was a dangerous thing! The crowd was modest, much like the surroundings.

All in all, it was an uneventful performance. I felt comfortable, and my playing seemed to start to gel. The amp sounded glorious, loud and full! The crowd filed in, and it seemed a very young crowd. Almost too young. I wondered how many were underage, and this is where they know they can get served. They seemed cautious, if not a bit skeptical about a band of long haired 80’s rock retreads. But, I received many nice compliments, a beer bought for me, and nothing but smiles. The birthday boy/host was profuse in his praise, and talked at length about what a great time it was, and what a great band we were. Terrific, I hope so. This party wasn’t cheap! I hoped he was getting his money’s worth.

So, with the free beer, and the couple shots I bought, I enjoyed my time at the “Jolly Acres”. They tell me we’ll be back, and I can’t say that I mind. It’s not too far, the money was good, and I think once we build a following there, it will be a fun little getaway. After the show, I drove back to the hotel. Chuck invited me down to his room, as he’d snagged some beers to go, and we put on a night cap, sharing stories. Later, I wandered down to my lonely room, and crashed under the covers.