So, last night I was enjoying a couple 2-for-1 cocktails at Red Door East, my local watering hole of choice. Around 11:15 pm, I went to the ladies room (yes, I'm a lady). While washing my hands, that familiar guitar line began emanating from the speakers. Then I heard it:
I don't practice Santeria
I ain't got no crystal ball
I had a million dollars
But I spent it all
I chortled to myself about the establishment's sometimes strange musical choices, and about the continuing ubiquity of Sublime.
It was when I left the bathroom that things started to get strange. People were singing along. Like a lot of people. They were singing and swaying their hips and serenading each other in drunken bellows. As I made my way around the u-shaped bar the prevalence of the phenomenon became downright astounding—I mean, this wasn't Journey. When I got back to my drink I mentioned this quizzical situation to local luminary Chris Crofton. He was skeptical. "It's just those drunk rockabilly chicks with the dumb poofed-up-in-the-front hair," he said.
But, thirty seconds later he stopped mid-sentence and exclaimed, "Everyone is fucking singing along." Scanning the room, it became clear that about 40 percent of the patrons were at least mouthing the words. Maybe Bradley Nowell has some sort of strange beyond-the-grave mojo, maybe it was the 2-for-1 drinks—I don't know. But it was really strange.