FRI OCT 15 at Reggae Bar in San Antonio

So Friday October 15 we were back over at the Reggae Bar in San Antonio. This is a hole-in-the-wall bar specializing in reggae music in San Antonio--it's a pretty cool place on a big property. Our friend Andrew (in Del Feo--nice guys from San Antonio) had originally put together the show as a PLUMP/Del Feo co-bill. We had booked the show sometime back in August. In mid-September, the venue decided to put on the 2010 San Antonio Reggae Festival on the property on this weekend. (note--one month a very short window for putting on any event viewed as a "festival".) The venue/organizers said we could still play the show (as an after-party for the reggae festival). We figured this could only help attentance at the show, we like festivals, we like after-parties, we like being the after-party--so it seemed like a great idea for us. The festival was supposed to be for Thursday Oct 14 thru Saturday October 16.

As per usual, we got out of Houston later than we would have liked, and after a nice 3 hour drive we pulled into San Antonio a little before 10 pm. We show up over at the Reggae Bar--As I said before, this was a big property--and see a band (the Hooch from San Antonio--also very nice guys) playing on an outdoor stage that has been placed on the back 3 acres of the property. There were approximately 7-8 vendors, and probably about 75-100 people checking out the show. We were told that the idea was that the Hooch was the last band on the outdoor stage, and that we would play where the bands at Reggae Bar normally play--which is the outdoor patio of the bar. So we get out our PA and equipment, and set up the PA so that Del Feo can play their set. Decent crowd, people were still coming, we were ready to play (and rock).

As a sidenote, Josh needed some cigarretes, so I volunteered to run him over to the closest convenience store. Reggae Bar isn't in exactly the best part of San Antonio. We took a right out of the parking lot, and drove about a mile to the closest gas station ( a Concoco). I pulled into the parking lot. We see bars on all the windows and doors, we see the guy working the register staring at us (in an unfriendly fashion), and we see a dude and a lady out front, just hanging out. I am 98.5% sure she was a working girl, and that he was her "daddy". Fortunately, I never really stopped the car, as we were able to survey make an appraisal of the situation within 10 seconds upon turning into the convenience store parking lot and driving around the pumps. I said, "Josh, I don't feel comfortable with you buying cigerettes at this Conoco." He agreed. Then we laughed. Then we drove about a quarter-mile farther down the road to a Chevron station, which fortunately lacked bars on the doors and windows, glaring attendents, and working girls and "daddys". So Josh was able to purchase his cigerettes, and we made our way back to the Reggae Bar.

We had a bit of an issue getting enough power to run the PA from the venue's electricity system, but we were finally able to get it under control. Every time we tried to go in the front door of the venue, we got semi-harrassed by the doorman, who was trying to charge us $20. We would tell him we were in one of the bands, but he would just stare at us for about 1 minute, make us call somebody in PLUMP already in the venue or to call somebody in Del Feo to vouch for us. This happened several times--apparently the door man was not very good with faces. Then, we were informed that the cops had shown up the night before and had given the bar manager a ticket for noise violations. Reggae Bar apparently had gotten a "festival" permit, but had not done what was necessary to ensure that they would not make neighbors angry for having loud music from 2 pm to 2 am from Thursday to Saturday. We noticed that there were about 4 cops just hanging out front. Occasionally the cops walked through the crowd at the show. We finally got Del Feo going, and after about 2 songs, the cops came and talked to Al and told them to take the sound down a lot lower. We got Del Feo out of the PA, and asked them to play as low as possible. Del Feo continued playing. One of the cops walking through stopped to talk with Jason and myself for a bit. He was a real nice guy. He said the organizers hadn't done appropriate action to make sure they wouldn't get harrassed by neighbors, and that the cops would be there all night. He confided in us that he loved heavy metal music, that he loved loud music, and that he was sorry to have give out tickets for noise ordinances because "He knows how it is."

After one more song (at about 11:15 pm), the door man with the bad memory came out into the crowd. He makes a big announcement to turn the music off. He says the music is too loud, that he already got a ticket (in the amount of $500) the previous night for the music being too loud, and that he sure as hell didn't want another one. So the show was over. PLUMP didn't even get to play--which really kind of sucks after driving for 3 hours and setting up the PA. There was a really nice crowd, and some people had come there to see us specifically, so we felt bad because some of these people paid $20 (as part of the admission to the "Festival") to see us, and they definitely did not get their money back from the venue. Andrew and the Del Feo guys were real nice and gave us a little gas money for our foundtrip from Houston to San Antonio. They apologized for the evening--even though this was clearly not Del Feo's fault. They also told us that they were not even really sure who the "manager" was, as he was not a regular emplopyee of Reggae Bar. So, we headed back to Houston after the playing the gig in which we didn't even play. I doubt that Day 3 of the 2010 San Antonio Reggae Festival was even allowed to take place--but I can't be sure. One bright spot is that we did get to patronize the Buc-cees on I-10 at about 2 am. Delicious kolaches, and a very very nice bathroom.

A couple weeks later I received a phone call from a number I did not recognize (though I did recognize the San Antonio area code). It was from the owner of the Reggae Bar--who apparently was not at the 2010 San Antonio Reggae Festival on Plump's fateful night. He kept asking about where was his "qoun". He asked me this same question several times, and I told him I was not even sure what the hell he meant by "quon". Eventually, it became clear that the owner was saying "coin", and by saying "where is my coin" he meant that he wanted to know where the door money was from the 2010 San Antonio Reggae Festival. Apparently, confusion had run rampant as to who had the money (or "coin" if you will) and the owner thought that I might know where it was. I assured him that not only did I not know where it was, but that I surely would not in a million years have been able to wrest any of that money away from the door manager who had severe facial recognition issues. I wished him luck in finding his "coin". I don't like his chances.

The "Case of the Missing Reggae Coin" may well be a case for Encyclopedia Brown, whose exploits I enjoyed remember reading when I was a child--I am relatively sure Encyclopedia Brown was able to locate pilfered "coin" during some of his high profile cases. This has Bugs Meaney's fingerprints all over it. (note: Bugs Meaney was a thick-headed 14 year old small-time thug who also happened to be Encyclopedia Brown's foil--his Professor Moriarity, if you will.)