Monday, September 04, 2006

CLAMBAKE: Epilogue


We held the first CLAMBAKE(!) on Saturday, and we definitely learned a few things about holding a guerilla-style, all-acoustic beach/party show. More importantly, however, I think we all learned a little something about (pointing at chest) ourselves.

If you don't have time to read the whole thing, the following statement should convey the nature of the event: Our CLAMBAKE(!) turned out to be "A Charlie Brown Xmas" meets "National Lampoon's Vacation." Have fun at work.

Some of the planners and I agreed in advance to view this first CLAMBAKE(!) as an experiment of sorts, as a precaution against becoming disappointed in case things didn't go as smoothly as we'd hoped, which was fortunate.

I should first mention why we chose Dockweiler as opposed to other area beaches. We (the planners) had all agreed that fire was an essential element for our event, and there are only two beaches in the whole LA area where fire is allowed: Cabrillo Beach here in San Pedro, which is my own personal Alma Mater beach where I spent a great portion of my childhood, and Dockweiler State Beach which is directly beneath the flight path at LAX. We anticipated big crowds because of the Labor Day weekend holiday, and Cabrillo only has about five fire pits. However, Dockweiler has a seemingly infinite number of pits so I figured we'd have better luck there.

I arrived at 4:00 PM and there were no fire pits to be had on the whole goddamn beach. I planted the flag and figured that we'd merely grab the first pit to be vacated. I'll just tell you now, no pits ever opened up.

We all decided, at around sunset, that we wouldn't allow the lack of fire to sully our CLAMBAKE(!) so The Black Heartthrobs started their set, and it was really good.
We had all expressed concerns about the lack of amplified vocals, but it turned out to not be a problem. (We'd even talked about cheating a bit and bringing microphones.) I don't know why, but the singing and the instruments all came across at about the same volume.

By the time the The Black Heartthrobs finished, it had become apparent that all the fire pit-hoarders were there to stay, so I was a little worried about the sun going down and coldness setting in. In addition, we couldn't roast or toast anything, but I tried to put on a brave front.

Then CMG started their set, and during the second song, someone noticed that a tow truck was taking CMG Carlos's car! We scrambled up the hill, and we saw that the street signs were very ambiguous, and it took us a while to even figure out why they had towed it. As you might imagine, this put quite a damper on the already-fireless evening. The phone number-to-call on the street signs was a disconnected number, so we had to track down a policeman in order to get that information.

When we returned to our site, it was pretty much dark. Several revelers were getting ready to leave, and one volunteered to give Carlos a ride to the impound yard. It didn't seem that he was going to return, and I didn't blame him at all. The CLAMBAKErs shivered and huddled together for warmth in the grey twilight as the rest of the beach was ablaze in bonfires. Dockweiler was going to close in less than two hours, and I mulled over the possibility that Jesus once again had us licked.

People were complaining about being cold and hungry and about there not being fire, and I can't blame them because I felt the same way, and the clock was ticking and the threat of cars being towed loomed large, and it seemed like the CLAMBAKE(!) just might be finished.

Someone earlier in the day (I think it was my sister Michelle) had suggested buying a small hibachi-style barbecue thingy for us to use. Even though the only "legal" place to have a fire on the beach was inside the stone fire pits, we decided that we'd take our chances and buy one at the nearest supermarket. Everyone assured me that they'd wait until I returned.

Naturally, the market didn't have anything like a small hibachi-style barbecue thingy at all. After almost giving up, I spotted some aluminum baking pans, and I chose one that would have been suitable for baking a turkey, and I also bought a small bag of light-in-bag charcoal. Not so fast, "Prince of Peace!"

I arrived back at camp and I was promptly mocked for my aluminum baking pan, but after we lit the coal and the revelers began warming themselves and toasting/roasting things, all was merry and bright. (See picture of flaming pan below.) This is the part of the CLAMBAKE(!) that's reminiscent of the Charlie Brown Xmas special.
Then The Gold State played and during our set, CMG's Carlos came back. It was all a mistake! The police apologized and gave him his car back (that part's actually not true, but he did come back). Then CMG played and everyone hugged.

Things we learned:
  1. No CLAMBAKE(!)s on holidays weekends
  2. I forgot the other thing.
The next one will be in a couple of months, and we hope that it'll be more of a "Grinch Stole Xmas" meets "Caddyshack" kind of thing.

3 comments:

Cocovan said...

Did you bake any clams?

paul said...

No. Not in the literal sense, anyway. In jazz parlance, a "clam," as yuo probably know, is a sour note, and I know I'm guilty of pulling a few of those, but then we have to get into what "bake" is slang for and how that fits in with the sour note thing, and it becomes kind of tedious.

I'm going to say "no" for now, that we didn't "bake" any "clams."

Geritopia said...

Elvis starred in a rip-snortin' movie entitled "Clambake"

Here are the actual lyrics to the theme song:
___________________

All right, Hmm
Mamma's little baby loves clambake, clambake
Mamma's little baby loves clambake too
Mamma's little baby loves clambake, clambake
Mamma's little baby loves clambake too

Hey listen world you've gotta know
I'm cuttin loose and lettin' go
Who needs the worry and the strife
Life can be a ball now just followin' my life
clambake, gonna have a clambake
clambake, gonna have a clambake

Look for the brightest lights in town
That's where you'll find me hanging round
I've got this feeling to be free
I pick and choose the life I want
And that's the life for me
clambake, gonna have a clambake
clambake, gonna have a clambake

Mamma's little baby loves clambake, clambake
Mamma's little baby loves clambake too
Mamma's little baby loves clambake, clambake
Mamma's little baby loves clambake too

All right

Look for the brightest lights in town
That's where you'll find me hanging round
I've got this feeling to be free
I pick and choose the life I want
And that's the life for me
clambake, gonna have a clambake
clambake, gonna have a clambake

Mamma's little baby loves clambake, clambake
Mamma's little baby loves clambake too
Mamma's little baby loves clambake, clambake
Mamma's little baby loves clambake too
Hey!

Mamma's little baby loves clambake, clambake
Mamma's little baby loves clambake too
Mamma's little baby loves clambake, clambake
Mamma's little baby loves clambake too
Mamma's little baby loves clambake, clambake
Mamma's little baby loves clambake too