I shold have been a rock star- encore

Oct 8, 2007
Last night I had the chance t see Blue Oyster Cult again…..still on
the road and still cranking out the mega-decibels. It has been about
8 years since their last album; one that sill had some great BOC
tunes. Both Fletch and I are BOC fans and he drove back from OU in a
driving rain storm to go t the show with me.
The show was at the Tulsa state fair. They were supposed to play
outside at the Oklahoma Stage, an open air theater off the fairway,
but this gigantic front and rain moved into Oklahoma just in time to
mess up the show. Fletch had called, asking about the show. I checked
online, but no info there about any changes. I was ready to don rain
gear and stand out in a hurricane to hear “Don’t Fear The Reaper” and
“Cities on Flame With Rock and Roll” again.
I gathered the rain gear. Meanwhile, Fletch was running late in his
2 hour drive home. The roads were cluttered with traffic accidents and
slow moving cars due to the torrents of rain. I checked the fair web
site over and over, looking for news, and finally a report came across
the local news that BOC was in Tulsa and the show had been moved
indoors, but delayed by 30 minutes.
WE hadn’t seen the Cult in a few years. They played the Tulsa
fairgrounds another time, along with Starship, Foghat and BOC
headlining. The event was on a week night, and obviously, it drew an
older crowd. It, too, had been moved indoors to the lower level of
fairgrounds Pavilion. There was so much time in between acts, the
roadies wandering around aimlessly while the crowd grew more and more
restless. Starship opened with a lot of sound problems that muted
Mickey Thomas’ voice and performance. Foghat put on one of their
better sows, but they were without long time guitarist Lonesome Dave
Previtt, who died in 2000 after a battle with cancer. He had been
replaced by ex-Wild Cherry (“Play That Funky Music”) guitarist, Bryan
Bassett.
By the time BOC got to take the stage, the crowd had dwindled down
to a spare group…. And we crowded to the front of the stage. I was
afraid that the small crowd would be less of an incentive to play a
great show, but Eric Bloom and Buck Dharma didn’t disappoint us.
Standing just feet from the stage, singing along with “Don’t Fear The
Reaper” and “Burning For You,” we soaked in every note of the show
that seemed to be played just for us.

So, Fletch, and I, along with Dave Decker, drove through sheets of
rain to Tulsa, avoiding weather related car accidents and flooded
intersections to arrive at a deserted fairground. The water cascaded
across the pavement as we walked between abandoned rides and booths.
It was almost as if we were in a carnival ghost town.
We finally entered the only active place at the soaked fairgrounds,
the indoor exhibit area. There, we bought a greatly overpriced cup of
beer, shook the rain off our jackets and wandered thorough booths,
cars and mobile homes in which a skeleton crew of workers, fairgoers
and concert-minded people passed the time.
The newly moved show was in the Pavilion, across the fairgrounds
form the Expo building. We looked and paced until a time we felt would
still get us close to the stage, without waiting long in line. Then,
we set out across the grounds, still being pummeled by buckets of
rain.
The building was still being used. The rodeo was still going on when
we entered. We could see the lights and stage of the concert
suspended above the rodeo floor, but the horses and cattle still were
what rocked the building. An impatient young usher disgustedly
explained we would have to wit or sit in the rafter seats till the
rodeo was over.
We sat, impatiently, waiting through calf roping, clown acts and
finally bull riding. I was wondering what the New York based BOC
thought of following a rodeo. But, at last, well over an hour after
expected starting time, the rodeo bowed out after a final oratory on
freedom and the American soldier. Crew members rushed out to lower the
stage and begin setting up the band equipment.
Dave, Fletch and I made our way onto the dirt covered floor pitted
with hoof prints and truck tires. As we stood through the sound check,
Fletch asked, “How big was Blue Oyster Cult I their heyday?”
“Played Stadiums,” I told him. I saw them at big concert halls. In
fact, I had seen them in Tulsa several times, and in Wichita,
headlining both concert hall and outdoor stadium shows.
“I wonder how someone like that feels about playing a state fair
after being in the big time?” He asked. “Must love the Music.”

What is it that keeps a band like that still playing and coming
back? What makes some do an oldies tour? What drives a single guy from
a band to create a new band around them under the old name? Grand Fun
tours with basically only drummer Don Brewer from the original band.
The Guess Who is only two originals, and neither is Burton Cummings or
randy Bachman. Mick Jones is the only original in Foreigner. When is a
band no longer the band?
Is it simply for the money? Is it an inability to let go of the past?
Is it the hope that you might get back to the top?
Or is it truly for the love of the music? Could it be for that
feeling you get from the cheers and applause that come because you
wrote that song, or because they recognize the guitar solo you
created? Does the big stage even matter, or is it the fact that
people are coming because they remember you and what you meant to
them?
Ironically, as the concert started, we were told by lead vocalist
Eric bloom that guitarist buck Dharma was not there. He had not been
able to land in Tulsa due to the storm and was currently on his way
back after a detour to Dallas. His duties and vocals would be handled
by back up guitarist, Richie Casteland.
Fletch had said he wanted to hear “The Red and the Black” for the
guitar in it. I guess the rock gods heard his young plea and BOC
opened with the very song! I know he was disappointed that Buck was
not there, but Richie did a great job filling in. His solo sizzled.
Bloom directed the band through a series of BO hits, including “Cities
On Flame,” “Burning For You,””Godzilla,” “Hot rails To Hell” and
“Don’t’ Fear The Reaper.” They even played the unlikely “Black Blade”
from the Moorcock Elric fantasy novels.
The show was over before we knew it. I was already hoarse from
screaming the lyrics, but apparently the late start and fair schedule
left them little time to do a whole set. It was a good show, but left
me wanting more. There were so many songs that were left unplayed. I
wanted to scream “dominance” to Bloom’s “submission!” I wanted to do
air guitar to “Stairway to the Stars” and “O.D.ed On Life Itself!”
But Bloom waved to the crowd, and announced they were out of time.
The band left the stage and the lights came up. We had a good meal of
BOC rock, but still wanted desert. We stood for a few moments, just in
case and then wandered slowly off the dirt covered floor and out into
the rainy night.
I love Blue Oyster Cult. I Love their music, often described as the
“thinking Man’s Heavy Metal.” I love what the remind me of. I love
the fact that they probably did permanent haring damage to me years
ago… when the show was so loud I swear my ears were bleeding as
“Godzilla” pounded through the concert hall. I love that fact that
they are probably sci-fi and fantasy nerds with loud electric guitars
from an era that is hard to describe.

Before the show, Dave, Fletch and I were getting beer from a vendor
when I spied a couple of girls from the high school. They pointed at
the beer in m hand, and laughingly said, “Coach Dugan with beer??!!” I
walked t talk with them and asked, have either of you ever listened to
Blue Oyster Cult before?” Both shook their heads “no” and then one,
Daria, thinking because the band followed the rodeo, asked “Are they
some kind of Red Dirt band?”

I smiled. “No… definitely not,” I answered. “They rock.”