I’ll never forget the night - I think we were in Lubbock or was it Wentzville…either way. I remember that Miles - that’s Miles Anthony, the lead singer of Big Slick, was really hot for this babe in the fourth row and as his top roadie he expected me to make the deal with her. You know - get her backstage and well…you know. And this was unusual because normally he would choose three or four just in case one or two wouldn’t well…you know. So I watched her off and on during the concert just to see what I could see. Well, I could see quite a lot if you know what I mean and I suspect that is what made Miles want her so bad but that’s neither here nor there.
I word or two about me is in order I suspect: My name is Night Train. Actually my name is Lance but a long time ago outside of a little bar called The Cavern a drunken Ringo called me Night Train and the moniker just stuck with me over the years. At that time I had spent three years in college and was doing a summer vacation with the love of my life who’s name I just can’t seem to recall at the moment. One night we went to see this band at a bar in the red light district called the Cavern and while I was hanging out after the show this chap in a leather jacket asked if I could help them drag some equipment to their van. Turns out that chap was John Lennon and we struck up a friendship that lasted until that fateful night outside of the Dakota. But that is the short version of how I started at a roadie. The story about why I am still a roadie is much longer and not quite as enjoyable.
So - back to that night in Barstow…or was it Philly - either way. During the drum solo (I swear Smokestack was channeling Don Brewer of Grand Funk that night) Miles asked if I hooked it up yet and I had to tell him not yet. Miles really didn’t like that answer but it was the only one I had right then. After a quick line and a towel-off he was back on stage and I was back to my job - pimpin for rock stars. Not a job I recommend to young professionals but I’m pretty good at it by now and I’m pretty damn sure that at sixty-six years of age I won’t be going to truck drivers school if this doesn’t work out. But this was 17 years ago when I still thought I would get a real job when I grew up.
Back to LuAnn (her name as I was to find out later)…She had squeezed her way up to the second row by now and had just flashed her considerable attributes to Miles and he looked at me and gave me the signal - again. Rock stars and their roadies have a complicated series of signals that would make a third base coach proud. One signal means “she can come back stage but that’s all” another means “she can come back stage if she brings her friend/sister” another means “she can come back stage but only if she’ll ___________ (insert desire here)” and yet another meant “she can come backstage but make sure she’s not a dude first.” There are more but I’m sure you get the gist of it. The signal I had just received for the second time meant “if she’s willing she can come on tour with us for a week or two.” I didn’t get that signal too often so I took it seriously.
And so I watched her. I watched her because there is a level of trust between a roadie and a horny rock star and I have a solid reputation for never letting the rock star down - or getting him arrested. And that’s the key to this whole operation - keep the rock star safe from a multitude of potentially embarrassing situations. And so I watched her. I watched her on her cell numerous times - and not that happy about it. I watched her turn away dude after dude who hit on her. I watched her as her older friend brought her beer after beer. And I noticed she didn’t have any tattoos.
And I watched as she walked away after Miles sang the last lines to their hit at the time, “Big Leg Woman” (a decent version of the classic Muddy Waters tune). As she walked I chased. I didn’t expect her to bolt so fast. I figured she would stick around and slide toward the side of the stage to well…you know. But she didn’t. She was in a hurry and I knew I would be fired if I didn’t get her backstage to Miles.
I was about to catch up to her when she met her angry mother and father at the exit. And that is when all the indicators started springing to my mind. No tat’s for one. Sure you can get your parents to sign for you if you are under 18 but not many do. And all the text messages and phone calls that she wasn’t happy about. No doubt her mom or dad had sent those. And all those dudes she turned away - no sense hooking up when your angry mom is gonna meet you at the door. And finally, it was her older friend that was bringing her the beers. Something someone under 18 couldn’t have purchased without a fake ID.
And so I had to face a not too happy Miles backstage. I just had to tell him she was underage and we were good. No way he wants to mess with any jailbait - not again, at least. In the end he hooked up with a reporter for a local rag that was much more age appropriate for my aging rock star. I am happy to report some 17 years later that they have been married for 15 years now and have two kids. The boy is named Thor and the girls name is LuAnn. I guess even if you’ve had as many as Miles you never quite forget the one that got away.
OPSEC - keeping rock stars out of jail for 60 years.
Keep the Faith!
Revelator
Jail Bait - George Thorogood and The Delaware Destroyers