Regular Life

How would you like it if a bar full of people knew you and your spouse as “the ’80’s-loving couple?”

It didn’t bother us. And it didn’t bother me that those college guys got my wife drunk, nor that more than one set of strangers’ breasts brushed against my back at random times throughout the evening.

After having pizza with old friends, we strolled down Fayetteville’s Dixon Street, a narrow strip that runs through the heart of downtown and up the hill to the University of Arkansas, and stopped at Willy D’s Dueling Piano Bar. A bulky guy sitting on a stool near the front door took our $5 cover charge — a nominal fee considering what we were about to get.

The show was scheduled for a 9 o’clock start, but at 8:15 we found standing-room only. We meandered to the bar and ordered a beer for Shannon — in a $5 plastic keepsake mug refillable for $1 — and a Captain Morgan and Diet Coke for me. Because, after stuffing yourself with pizza, you gotta make sure you go with Diet Coke in your booze. Wouldn’t want any of that nasty HFCS sneaking down your gullet.

Let’s see. What do we have so far… beer, boobs, and booze? Now that’s a night to remember without what came next.

A dueling piano bar, never the same twice, always is a mix of unequal parts stump the band, sing-along, dance party, and vaudeville, with a generous helping of lewdness.

Standing by the bar, we sipped our drinks as we enjoyed people-watching in an environment that welcomes it. The first thing that struck me was the lack of cigarette smoke. In Fayetteville local laws ban all public buildings, including bars, from allowing smoking. It was, if I may, a breath of fresh air.

The crowd indirectly suggesting that we move away from the bar, we flowed to a spot about five feet from a table full of college guys. The show started and the crowd responded with screams, shrieks, and shouts delivered only the way early twenty-somethings can, blending to form a howling unison.

Until my wife started screaming, that is. Each time she responded with those lungs developed by more than 15 years in choir, those vocal chords trained to go on and on without straining, the musicians and some of the spectators turned to look. At one point, a young woman turned back and yelled, “Was that you? You’re awesome!”

How did she become so uninhibited?

In the show’s first hour, we were forced closer and closer until we were against the table full of college guys, where a large, glass mug full of beer sat at an unoccupied spot. One of the youngsters looked back and noticed that Shannon’s beer was only half full. He held the glass mug high and raised his eyebrows at us. Without hesitation Shannon moved her mug closer while he started to pour.

This happened at least five times after that. I offered the guys money (I had cash!), but they declined. After they introduced themselves and shook our hands, Shannon leaned down and yelled, “Thanks for helping an old lady get drunk!”

They waved her off like she was being ridiculous. Then, I leaned down to hear one of them say, “Hey, man, 50’s the new 40, 40’s the new 30, and 30’s the new 20!” I figured that comment, not to mention their rendering her mug bottomless, was their way of saying that my wife’s hot.

And I was okay with that.

There were several songs we didn’t know, but the crowd sang right along. At other times, I marveled at the 21-year-olds’ knowledge of classic rock from the ’70’s. Then there was the obligatory hog call. (the video is Quicktime, right out of Shannon’s Kodak camera — if you don’t want Apple’s software on your computer, then get the Quicktime Alternative to play .mov files)

(14 seconds - only got the end)

I think because it was a college crowd, the musicians weren’t getting blanketed by requests (which usually come with money attached). Shannon ripped a page from her planner and I scribbled our respective (but not respected?) choices. I walked up to the stage and stepped up just long enough to place the note along with a five-dollar bill.

The pianist nearest us read it and laughed as he read it aloud. “He said, ‘Baby Got Back.’ She said, ‘Jesse’s Girl.’” After nodding to his partner across the pianos, he launched into staccatto power chords instantly recognizable as the opening of the Sir Mixalot classic.

After the first verse, however, he didn’t know the words and enlisted the help of one of Shannon’s beer buddies. He nailed it.

(15 seconds)

At about 12:30, an entire table emptied and we grabbed two seats. The musicians practically begging for requests, I wrote down a few and, as the crowd dwindled, shouted more.

Moments after wrapping up “Hit me With Your Best Shot,” the woman singer said, “Some Pat Benatar, for our ’80’s-loving couple over there.”

(37 seconds)

The man I had surmised to be the leader looked at us and said, “You guys have been here all night, and you’ve been great. You can hear any song you want.”

Shannon and I glanced around to see we were, indeed, the only patrons left, and the only couple besides the female singer and her boyfriend (necking in a dark corner). Rarely able to come up with something good in such moments, we were at a loss.

“Any song. Come on.”

I had noticed throughout the night that the leader had played some great lead guitar riffs and solos. We had heard rock, pop, and country music. What was missing that could showcase his guitar skills?

The blues, of course! I wanted to name something accessible, which was easy because that’s the only kind of blues I know.

I blurted out, “Pride and Joy, by Stevie Ray Vaughan!”

And so the last song of the night was another ’80’s song.

(45 seconds)

“So, is guitar your primary instrument?” I asked the band leader.

“Yeah, it is. Hard to play with this, though.” He pointed to a thick bandage on one of his fingers he uses on the fretboard.

We also found out that he’s a transplant from Orlando who instantly fell in love with and moved to Fayetteville with his family. Maybe he’ll be the inspiration for a book: The People You Meet on Dixon Street.

We left at 1:30, surprisingly wired all the way back to our hotel. What a night for a mom and a dad.

(Note: You may watch all these on my YouTube channel, if that works better for you)