Dateline: Kansas City... Knuckleheads Saloon, Sunday afternoons.. free jam sessions.
In 1887, a railroad boarding house was built in the East Bottoms. Adjacent was an amusement park, Electric Park. Fast forward a hunnerd and ten years (that's 1997 for those of you that suck at math like I do).. and one of the buildings housed a body shop. The body shop folks opened a Harley dealership - they'd have street parties, give away free beer. Became so popular, owner gotta liquor license. Then, even more popular - owner closed the Bike shop - opened Knuckleheads.
Even with all these letters on the keyboard, Knuckleheads is hard to describe. There's a small "Gospel Lounge"... annuder inside lounge/stage... a very interesting outside stage that includes a caboose for VIP seating, a U-shaped upper deck, bleachers seats, tables and even some old seats from Royal's stadium.
If this tweren't enough, in 2009, the body shop was converted into Knuckleheads Garage (for big crowds to see/hear) - thus, four venues/stages for bands to play, and sometimes music happens at all four stages at once. There's a huge mural on the sidea the garage that sports wonderful paintings of Elvis, Stevie Ray, Hank Williams Jr, Hendrix, Buddy Holly - and many more. Electric Park (complete with a performing stage) converted to Eclectic Park (complete with performing stages).
There's posters all about of everybody and anybody who's performed there (among em, Leon Russell, Edgar Winter, Keb' Mo', Ray Price, Delbert McClinton, Ray Price, Merle Haggard, Samantha Fish, and many, many more.) If you were to go pee, you'd find more posters, bumper stickers and signed autographs on the wall from us plain ole folks spanning from Massach.. ahm, Masachoo...er, Massahchoo... a, from Maine to Hawaii.
There's still some catering to the Harley folks.. specialized upfront parking (be careful, you tip one, you tip over a hunnerd.)
Leave early to get there, otherwise you'll get stuck awaiting one of the very many train crossings surrounding the joint. There is a back way to avoid 'em, but I've yet to learn that way. "Alexa, guide me around these damn trains."
The train whistles/horns, add to the uniqueness of the joint. In fact, singer-songwriter Joe Ely was playing his hit song Boxcar - and spectacularly, right when the song called for it, onea them train whistles sounded. "I've been waiting 20 years for that to happen."
Sunday afternoons. If you were a young punk in 1960/70-something in KC and you drove to KCKS to a bar serving young punks (beer was sold to 18 yr olds then) - it's the exact same people that were in KCKS that now attend Sunday afternoons, but now complete with belly fat, bigger butts, dyed (or no) hair.. some hideous outfits (who cares), but most importantly, ever present smiles.
On the walk from the parking lot to the venue, you might see someone carrying a guitar case, a set'a drums, a horn case.. hells bells, last week some dude even played a 'saw'. Thinka him waking up that day, "I think I'll take my saw down to Knuckleheads and play." There are a few pros, but for the most part, it's "hey, we need a bass guitar for this set".. .or, "next drummer, you're up." It's always amazing to see the piecemeal on the stage perform like they've been together for years - it truly is.
I learned from Little League, you can either catch or you can't. Same goes for dancing. Good Lord. First, lemme say, and quote my stepson "Not no's, but hells no's" that I would never step foot on the dance floor (I can catch, but I CAN'T dance.) I feel sheepish/guilty then (not really) describing really sucky dancing, but you needta go one time to see it. It's kinda like you're out somewhere, maybe in a car, or maybe even at home, and someone starts singing that really shouldn't be singing. Amazingly, they don't grasp that, but it's twue, it's reawwy twue, on they go, gyrating (I think), stepping (awkwardly), bouncing (some really shouldn't) and even more amazingly, an occasional glimpse to the crowd to 'see who's watching me'.
One lady, all she did was 360's. Reminded me, as a kid, you'd spin around and around and around, then everyone would laugh at you as you walked away, lost your balance and fell down. She never did though. Forgive me Father, I was kinda wishing she would, but she didn't. Musta been good genes, good jeans, the alcohol, or sumpin.
Mixed in, mebbe one outta fitteen, those that can dance. Yum, fun to watch. I don't think 'relationship' is a goal of the dancers as 70-somethings oft times dance with 40-somethings. There's tons of single women dancing - and even upon occasion a single dude. People watching here is more fun than even Bourbon Street in Nola or Fremont Street in Vegas.
All this, for free (not to mention cheap beer.) Time's up at 6pm, so we, the dock worker, the retired dudes/dudettes, the executive, the real estate lady, the hairdresser, a wonderful mix of folks who don't care whatintheheck you do or did for a living - we just enjoy fun, music, people watching, and even some dancing - must return to our humble abodes.
If you ain't never been, you oughta.
There'll be swinging, swaying, music playing, dancing in the street. Oh it doesn't matter what you wear, just as long as you are there.. So come on ev'ry guy (except me) grab a girl..... Dancing in the street.
By Henry Gibson (Dance ensemble arranged by Fred Astaire and Thelma Threesixty)
Love, Victurd
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