Lake Shore Drive: Stories of the Road and Tales of the Tropicana

By Skip Haynes

A docu-fictional, darkly humorous account of life on the road with a touring band during the musically tumultuous and extremely elevated 1970's.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: May 23, 2017
• ISBN: 9781543903584

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Copyright 1984/2010/2017 Skip Haynes

• Eugene von Heitlinger

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photcopying, recording or by any information storage and retreival system, without written permission of the publisher except where permited by law.

(Rights reserved under international and Pan-American copyright conventions)

Book design

Cover art

Illustrations

Songs

Skip Haynes

"ISBN 9781543903584

Laurel Canyon Animal Company

8305 Yucca Trail

Los Angeles. CA

90046

www.LAKESHOREDRIVEMUSIC.com

To Dana, Rikki, Eliza Doolittle,

Alfredo Coyote, T.C and LSD

AUTHOR’S NOTE

(E Major)

Many of the characters depicted in these stories and tales are composites, I have not always described them or quoted them accurately and I have altered or invented many of the scenes (but not all) for continuity, For the most part this is the gist of what happened — I think.

A special thanks and all my love to Rikki without whose help and guidance I never could have even begun this book.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

ROAD STORIES

1. Freaky Deaky

2. Play Misty For Me

3. The Cinderella Ballroom

4. Double Your Pleasure

5. The Great Bank Robbery & Indecent Exposure Tour

6. A Day In The Life

7. Beauregarde Dubois, Esq

8. For Eddie and Duke

TALES OF THE TROPICANA

9. Electric Cookies and Milk

10. Allo. Leetle Pooseycats!

11. Operation Projectile Evacuation

12. Goodnight Mrs. Calabash, Whoever You Were

ILLUSTRATIONS

1. "Three semi-nude midgets

2. EMERGENCY

3. It was Jakes head!

4. "PREVERT! PREVERT!

5. The three of us got out

6. I left reverse P’s" on toilet

7. "He was gonna mace the rock and

8. Eddie and Duke

9. Tropicana Pool Sign

10. "Care for a lift?

11. "I had taken two

12. Dukes

13. Goodnight Mrs Calabash

LYRICS

1. Slippin’ Away

2. Keeper Of The Tolls

3. Two In The Middle

4. I Am A Robber

5. Don’t Knock The Rock

6. Leavin’ Chicago AMF

7. For Eddie

8. Tales Of The Tropicana

9. Uppers And Downers

10. 2000 Miles

11. One Night Stand

There’s a road I’d like to tell you about,

That lives in my home town

Lake Shore Drive the road is called

And it’ll take you up or down

From rats on up to riches fiften minutes you can fly

Pretty blue lights along the way to help you right on by

Those blue lights shining with a heavenly grace

To help you right on by

It starts up north on Hollywood

Water on your driving side

Concrete mountains rearing up

throwing shadows just about five

Sometimes you can smell the green

If your mind is feeling fine

There ain’t no finer place to be

Than running Lake Shore Drive

There’s no peace of minder place to be

Than running Lake Shore Srive

It’s Friday night and you’re looking clean

Too early to start the rounds

A ten minute drive from the Gold Caost back

makes you sure you’re pleasure bound

Then it’s four o’clock in the morning

And all the people have gone away

It’s just you and your mind and Lake Shore Drive

And tomorrow is another day

The sunshie’s fine in the morning time

and tomorrow is another day

There ain’t no road just like it anywhere I’ve found

Runnig south on Lake Shore Drive heading into town

Slippin on by on LSD Friday night trouble bound

Lake Shore Drive

(Chicago)

ROAD STORIES

Skip Haynes

I was raving last night like an absolute fool

Forgot my wallet, got arrested too

Uh Oh, Freaky Deaky again

It’s not my fault there was a worm in my glass

I ate him up but he kicked my ass

Uh Oh, Freaky Deaky again

Hello mama, aren’t you coy?

I’d like you to meet my German Shepherd Roy

Uh Oh, Freaky Deaky again

What’s that at the end of my bed I see?

Could it really be midgets three?

Uh Oh, Freaky Deaky again

Uh Oh, Freaky Deaky again

Sometimes Freaky Deaky’s my best friend

If I’m getting sloppy, let me know

It’s hard to keep it down when you’re keeping it up

You can tie her down but you can’t tie her up

Uh Oh, Freaky Deaky again

Uh Oh, Freaky Deaky

Uh Oh, She’s gtting leaky

Uh Oh, Freaky Deaky again

Freaky Deaky, Freaky Deaky again

Freaky Deaky

(New York)

1

Freaky Deaky

Billy and Jake were my two partners. We got along splendidly about everything except music — the only reason we were together in the first place.

We had just been picked up by our first major record label. They swooped down and spirited us off to New York - first class plane tickets, limousines, the works. Our new producer, Monte, took care of everything. We were going to record our debut album at Decca Recording Studios on 57th Street, just down the street from Carnegie Hall.

This was the closest we ever got to Carnegie Hall.

Monte was determined we would be stars. He booked us into The Bitter End, the hottest club in New York at the time. When you played there they made you sign a contract that stated you wouldn’t appear at another club nearer than three hundred miles away for at least six months. It was on Bleaker Street in Greenwich Village. They didn't serve liquor. Our alcoholic intake at this time was world class, so this fact did not sit well with us at all. However, there was a place next to the Bitter End called Nobody’s. It stayed open all night and served anything you could think of. Everybody hung out there.

We were living in a house on the beach on Long Island. 610 Broadway in Longbeach, across the street from the boardwalk. We told our record company that we couldn't rehearse unless we were within a hundred feet of the beach so they had actually rented a house on the beach for us. Go figure.

Then they decided that we should be closer to them. It would be easier for us to get to work and for them to keep an eye on us.

This was the last time they ever did that.

Monte’s assistant booked us into a very classy hotel on 5th Avenue near 14th Street. Its regular clientele were oil sheiks from Kuwait and diplomats in for a weekend at the U.N.

We were the first and last Rock and Roll band ever to stay there.

Our suites cost eleven hundred dollars a week each. The maid put a mint on your pillow case every night. She stopped doing this after the first three nights. Then she refused to enter our suites if we were there and things went from bad to worse.

We were four days into a two-week engagement with Jim Webb when one of our musical discussions got us eighty-sixed from the club during business hours. We were only allowed inside to do our shows. This was alright with us because they didn't serve liquor anyway. We spent all our time between shows at Nobody's talking about things.

We were sitting Nobody’s one night discussing matters pertinent to our career. Namely, the fact that no one had gotten lucky four weeks. I was voted to have gotten closest. I met a gorgeous red head on the beach the week before, but I didn't have the guts to call her. Since then she was all I could talk about. I couldn’t help it. My glands made me do it.

Billy told me if I didn't shut up and call her, he was going to. He had her number too.

I dove for my wallet.

I had her number safely ensconced between my Dick Dastardly Vulture Squadron Card and my Eastern Airline Junior Pilot's License Certificate. Getting the number turned out to be a tad more difficult than anticipated. Someone poured a beer down the back of my chair soaking me and my wallet. The number was totally illegible. It looked like a demented Rorschach test.

I was desperate. I finally worked up the nerve to call her, and now I couldn't.

Then I remembered. Billy had the number!

I leaned over the table to ask him for it. This took a while because the jukebox had been permanently welded at 130 decibels and you could hear the waitresses screaming over that. Finally, after a combination of sign language and all my cash, I got the number from Billy and ran for the phone.

It didn't occur to me that it was two o'clock in the Morning. Apparently it didn't occur to Joyce either. She said that everyone called her at two a.m. and that she would just love to meet me at the hotel in half an hour.

This was IT!

Choice Joyce! Things were definitely looking up.

Life was good.

I fought my way back to the table. Jake was gone. Billy told me that while I was making my phone call, they decided to have a little party at the hotel. Jake had invited some friends over to the hotel to party for awhile. I should have grokked something was up, but all I could think of was Choice Joyce and room service.

The two o'clock crush arrived and Nobody's was rocking. Janis Joplin swaggered in trailing a nine foot feather boa hunting for big game.