Marilyn and Dan Hicks

Marilyn Goes to Hicksville! (A Marilyn/Dan Hicks Epic 32 Years in the Making)
(continued)

    Then, as we're heading through the door and I'm unfolding my self-printed Internet tickets, Chris tugs on my Hawaiian shirt (a last-minute wardrobe decision I couldn't resist), pulling me back outside the door and toward the box office. The painful sad look on my face at the ticket tearer, who's now moving farther away from me rather than closer as Chris is dragging me away, quickly registers with said ticket tearer, who eagerly confirms with me to Chris that these ARE the tickets and I can come on in.
    FINALLY we go into the theater (after waving a hello to Damn Fine Coffee teammate David behind the concessions counter), and Chris immediately notes, upon seeing the small tables set up at the front of the stage, "Hm... no mosh pit," a remark that cracks me up (and I make a note to mention to him later when he sees what kind of total non-mosh-pit band is playing).
    Then a final tug o' war over which row to sit -- he doesn't want to step over a few people to sit in the closest available row, almost commanding that we'll just sit in the row behind, while I, totally out of cool-and-negotiable juice, almost stomp my foot and completely point at the seats we WILL be sitting in (especially since the cool fans we'll be stepping over keep assuring him it's absolutely no problem, because they're such cool Dan Hicks fans and can understand why I'd want to sit as close as possible)(and especially since my car had been in the parking lot since 7:15, I want to explain to them, and I'm still beating myself up over not seeing Chris when I went in). Then he does the restroom and beer hit, while I take up residence in one of the two most perfect available seats (maybe 50 feet from the stage, although I'm a terrible judge of distance and audience numbers) and chat with a guy who's a huge fan and hopes they play "I Scare Myself." I look around at the crowd and notice that I'm seemingly the youngest person there, which is fine with me -- a very cool, friendly audience.
    Then a smattering of applause, and I look up to see Dan has casually walked onto the partially lit stage, setting up some stuff. He briefly pleasantly mutters into the mike, "Just talk amongst yourselves, ladies and gentlemen, we need a few minutes here..." Some bits of laughter from the crowd, and the other members of the band, a younger version of the Hot Licks and Lickettes I'd grown to love, wander onto the stage and begin setting up. When they're ready, Dan casually signals a thumbs up, they're "introduced," and he casually chats some more before beginning to play some of his toe-tappin' jazzy swingin' hits -- starting with "a combination of everyone's version (including Britney Spears) of 'Honeysuckle Rose'." He plays with even more laissez flare than Mark Knopfler (Mark tends to look like he's thinking about maybe starting to tune a guitar when he's actually ripping off some amazing riffs -- Dan casually crosses his foot over his other knee as if he's sitting down while standing and playing). Chris seems to be enjoying it, and when Dan announces that they're going to now play the Tom Waits song "The Piano... Has Been Drinkin'" Chris even gives a little Yeaaa!
    This latest version of the Hot Licks are pretty amazing, sounding exactly like the fab originals, and the violinist, after playing a number of killer violin/fiddle solos opposite the lead guitarist's killer solos, switches to mandolin and plays killer mandolin solos. The cello bassist follows with his own solos, and Dan occasionally introduces the back-up singing Lickettes as "the percussion section" as they accent the songs with various shakers and rain sticks and noisemakers (and one even picking up her own violin for a number), and donning sunglasses for "I Scare Myself."
    And, of course, Dan's deadpan stories and commentaries to the audience (his address to unsolicited and unwanted requests -- "We'll play that one tomorrow"). A little bit into the show, he says, "Just want to take a quick poll, here -- hold up your hand -- how many are here because of somebody else?" Chris and I look at each other and laugh while he enthusiastically holds up his hand. "Okay, and who's here because it was their idea?" And I hold up my hand and cheer with the others.
    During the break, Chris and I hit the lobby, where a concertgoer compliments my choice of wardrobe ("appropriate for this evening!") and Chris actually eyes the CDs on sale, saying he'll be buying some of those. I decide to go ahead and buy the must-have new DVD/CD combo (only $15, and Dan would be getting more money from tonight's purchase than from an Amazon purchase), and LUCKY I DO, because when they return for the second half, Dan casually says he might come out after the show and sign them. (Applause and cheering, followed by his deadpan "It's in the contract, folks.")
    More fab show -- me REALLY wowed to hear "'Long Came a Viper" live (a wicked fast song that leads Chris to asking me with a laugh "WHAT kind of 'blues'?") and happily "The Buzzard Was Their Friend" and the gleeful alien sounds of "Hell, I'd Go," plus the classics with newly twisted lyrics (in "Canned Music" his baby now leaves him for the roadie -- I explained to Chris that in Dan's younger days, his baby left him for the drummer). (Dan hadn't really changed in 30 years -- a notation confirmed by a couple of older ladies in the women's restroom, who exclaimed that his voice hadn't changed in all this time.) A quick encore, and then all retire to the lobby to await the signing (yea!!!).
    While waiting for Dan and trying to think of anything to say to him, I notice that the incredibly talented musicians are all ready in the lobby, hanging with the crowd and swigging beer. When the violinist/mandolin player walks by, I enthusiastically tell him how amazing I thought he played, and he happily and graciously thanks me. Another guy in line unveils a beautiful black and white Dan photo he's going to get signed ("Did you take that?" "Nah, got it on eBay" "Cool!").
    When Dan casually appears, walking down the side wall and setting up behind the table, I still don't have anything special to say. So when it's my turn (very soon, as Chris had maneuvered me toward the front of the line when I was heading all the way to the back), I say hi and set the inside liner note from the DVD in front of Dan. "What do you want me to say?" Dan casually says without looking up. "Whatever you want," I reply happily, "I don't give requests." He writes "Dan Hicks." "How 'bout that?" he asks pleasantly, and I say it's PERFECT! (Chris agreeing with me as we leave the theater that you really can't tell Dan Hicks what to say.)
    And it was the BEST DAN HICKS CONCERT EVER!

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