No Way Back Today

by Eric Shoars

  “We should probably take our places,” Lorelei says.

  We nod and move toward our instruments as one. The crowd gets quieter as I get closer to my drum kit. It’s not that their sound level has decreased it’s the pounding of my heart has increased to the point I am only able to hear it.

  I fidget in my seat till I’m comfortable. Physically comfortable anyway. I look over at the stand for my cymbal. Taped to the stand is the set list for tonight. We’re kicking off with Take The Day then It’s Our Time Now. We want to keep the crowd’s energy up so we’re starting off with two of our most anthem-like, upbeat songs.

  Surf Ballroom Set list:

  Take The Day

  It’s Our Time Now

  California Dreamin’

  Everything Changed

  No Way Back Today

  1986

  Happy Ever After

  All Those Ones and Zeroes

  Innovation Generation

  Encore: Talk Dirty to Me

  Deep breath. Then another. Heart doesn’t slow down for an instant. Over to my right is a now-laminated, hand-drawn picture of our band taped to my snare drum. The picture where the dream started. The picture that led us here. Hard exhale. Cannot get my nerves to settle down. This is a friendly show and I feel like I’m about to step off a high dive blindfolded. I’m so grateful that Laurel suggested we kick off our tour with this show. I’d hate to feel this nervous at our first official tour show.

  A flash in my head. The Partridge Family. The episode where they play their first gig has a scene where Mrs. Partridge is nervous but the kids aren’t. When the curtains part, Mrs. Partridge is fine but all the kids have stage fright and are unable to move. They’re statues as Mrs. Partridge frantically runs from child to child attempting to awake them from their fright and relax enough to do what they’ve practiced – being a band. I’m praying the Onions are not in for a similar start to our playing career.

  “Help us, Shirley Partridge,” I whisper under my breath.

  “Hey, Eric, you ready?” Lorelei inquires, snapping me back to reality with the question three people are seeking an answer to. I nod hesitantly. “Are you still nervous?” Lori follows up.

  “Depends,” I respond.

  “Depends on what?” Lorelei asks.

  “No, I think I need Depends. Very nervous,” I clarify.

  The four of us crack up at my poking fun at myself. This last little moment between us before the show starts has a calming effect on me.

  “I know the energy drink companies turned us down but I’d hate like hell to get a Depends sponsorship,” Todd adds.

  “Come soak up the Onions with Depends!” I announce in a dramatic voice.

  “No!” three voices protest. “Not happening,” Laurel adds.

  My buddy Mark strides up, his shoulder length brown hair rustles with the breeze his speed creates. All six-feet, five inches of my friend approaches us to confirm we’re all set to go before he introduces us for the first time on tour. Mark gets four thumbs up.

  “Onions At A Crime Scene,” he says, “let’s make some history.” He slips between the curtain and the stage wall I’d been peering through a few minutes ago. One last time we look at one another. No words are exchanged just looks of anticipation and joy.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen,” Mark’s voice sounds from in front of the curtain, “welcome to the legendary Surf Ballroom in Clear Lake, Iowa! Tonight we are here to kick off the reunion tour for four very special people with a unique dream. It is my pleasure to be able to introduce them to you tonight. Please put your hands together for...Onions At A Crime Scene!!!” Mark exits stage right clapping along with the audience that is roaring even louder. My countdown can only be heard by us. Mark isn’t halfway off the stage when Laurel starts off the intro line to Take The Day.

  “How could we forget?” Then our instruments come to life and the four of us sing as one:

  “Those sweet childhood days. Naivety and carefree fun. In the schoolyard, as we played. We go back to yesterday. Reminisce of good times. So glad, that this day came...”

  There is again a surreal disassociation as my body plays the drums and my mouth makes the sounds that match everyone else but my mind wanders to take in the scene in front of me. We purposely instructed the guy in charge of the house lights that they be kept at a level so we can at least see the crowd on the dance floor. Julie, Nicole, Ashley, Seth along with the boys, Lori’s twin daughters, Aniko, Jared, and the kids are front and center.

  Further scanning reveals our schoolmates from the class of ‘86 and Ani’s high school English students. The sight of the teens is such a shock that I almost drop a beat. It’s the group of students with whom I shared my crushed rock and roll fantasy back in January. They are jumping up and down as one yelling. Some are holding up hand-made signs with slogans on them.

  “Onions Rock!”

  “The Dream Lives!”

  “Eric = Awesome!”

  “Our Favorite Onions!”

  My drum instructor Nick has a sign that matches the gift certificate he had made me – Batman behind a drum kit. Tears well up and a few manage to escape and make a run for it down my cheeks. This journey was bound to be emotional and I knew it.

  The expected emotions were supposed to be from the joy of being here with my friends and realizing a dream. The emotion from experiencing the support and the reception we would get was never given much thought. I’d hoped people would like our music and be entertained. Okay, maybe even a little inspired. Never was this outpouring expected. Heck of a way to launch the reunion tour.

  Take The Day winds up and we go into It’s Our Time Now. This is the first time these people have heard our songs unless they were able to check out our videos on YouTube. This allows us to get a sense of how people respond to our songs, especially our generation who – hopefully – can identify with our message and our feelings.

  The energy coming at us never lets up even for an instant. My focus comes back to the four of us. Lorelei looks like she’s having a Sex Pistols good time. Her fingers fly across the keys while she and I are in perfect vocal harmony to Laurel and Todd’s melody. A killer smile is her default expression.

  Todd is shredding his guitar for all he’s worth. His singing and playing is spot on and with gusto. Every once in a while he cuts loose with a tongue stick out that would make Gene Simmons proud. Todd was the reluctant one, the one that took the most convincing, and now he looks like he’s having the time of his life.

  Laurel’s smile is almost as big as Lorelei’s. She’s all over the stage, stopping next to Todd to sing together with a shared mic, and then sprinting back to Lori’s keyboard, giving them a moment together to show off their musical talent. They exaggerate their motions and the crowd loves all of it.

  Laurel pulls up in front of my drums and we go note for note. Then, with a pre-planned signal, the Surf goes dark with only the footlights providing illumination and I unleash my secret weapon – LED light up drumsticks. The crowd comes unglued. It is an eruption of astonishment and delight. It is freaking fantastic. The only thing that could make it perfect is if Sheila E were here to see my homage to her.

  Once we hit the next verse, the lights come back to their previous level and my drumsticks are powered down, for now. We wrap the second song. More cheers and clapping as the final note fades over the crowd.

  “Thank you!” Laurel exclaims. “What a tremendous welcome! You guys are awesome! Wow!” She slides her pick under one of the strings. “Whenever I’m not playing guitar I like to keep a pick in my G-string.”

  Laurel didn’t warn me of her impending one-liner but my reflexes are quick enough to fire off a perfectly-executed rim shot. Cheers, shouts, and laughs rise up from a large segment of the audience…the large segment that is not any of Generation X’s children or teenagers or her sons.

&n
bsp; “Gotta keep you on your toes, people!” Laurel warns. “We’re as unconventional as it gets, right?” The question isn’t for them, it’s for us. And, yes.

  “What brought us here is a terrific story and we wouldn’t be here if not for Eric,” Laurel continues as the three of us move in next to her. She and Todd bookend Lorelei and me. I don’t know if anyone else notices but from the ballroom perspective, the four of us are spelling out T.E.L.L. Circle of life, folks.

  “When Eric pitched the idea to us, we decided to go out and sing karaoke to hear if we had what it takes to be the band he envisioned. At a bar in Des Moines, Onions At A Crime Scene was born,” Laurel pauses giving the crowd a chance to applaud. “This is not a song we wrote but this is the song that launched our band and what led us here. We’d like to sing that song for you now.”

  Laurel pulls out a harmonica from her pocket and sounds the note to get us in key. As at AJ’s, Laurel and Todd lead while Lori and I echo. The under 40 crowd doesn’t know the song but they are clapping as loud as their elders simply because we make the song ours. The hair on my arms is standing and dancing on its own. California Dreamin’ is a song I’ve always liked but it wasn’t necessarily my favorite. Can’t say that anymore. This is a special song for all of us and always will be.

  Being at the front of the stage now gives me a perspective I don’t get behind my drum kit. Cell phones are held high everywhere. Oh, baby. We’re going to be all over social media. Guess we’ll know by the end of the night how those in cyberspace react to tonight’s launch.

  Final notes hang in the air and the audience gives us vigorous applause. We bow and re-take our previous positions. Laurel segues into our next selection. “Our reunion tour is meant to share pieces of us with you as well as celebrate and acknowledge our shared experiences.” Laurel pauses to brush a stray hair away from her face. “We’ve all had amazing experiences in the last 30 years or so and also had some experiences that were heart breaking. This is one of those songs.” A brief pause to let us play the first few notes. “This is Everything Changed.”

  My stomach knots up as Todd sings the song that got us kicked out of an Applebee’s; the first song where we’re not all singing together. Todd’s going solo on this one with him and me singing the chorus. The energy level of the crowd has changed as they not only hear Todd’s song, they feel Todd’s song. The tale being told doesn’t just resonate with people who loved and lost but those who regret a chance not taken, a road not traveled.

  When we get to a certain age, we realize time is not the friend it once was. You get to a point where there are some things you cannot go back and undo. We all can identify with that. It doesn’t take much effort for Todd to convey his angst, his regret. Part of me wonders if he still wants to throttle me for the song. He hasn’t said anything about it since the night he almost separated my head from the rest of my body but still I wonder.

  The song ends and we let the air hang silent for a few beats longer than most. We want the impact to be fully felt and fully processed. Todd’s head hangs, his eyes rest on the floor. If you didn’t know better it would seem that his forever love just now broke up with him.

  An appreciative, determined applause rises from the concert goers to let Todd know they respect what he went through and for having the guts to stand in front of them and be willing to share such a personal wound. Todd brings his eyes back up to look at the audience, nods at them, and simply raises his right hand as you would to wave at another driver. He says nothing. He doesn’t have to.

  Four songs, four home runs. This is a friendly crowd filled with people who know us but, if we stink, they would be polite not vibrant. This is an exhilarated crowd that doesn’t take a song nor a note for granted. This gathering of friends and family maintains its energy, not letting up for a moment even during our serious offerings. It’s not unusual to see couples of all ages dancing to our slower tunes.

  The booths are full but where there might be conversation with music as a soundtrack for their chats, tonight there is full attention on the band with toes tapping, picture taking, and posting. I survey the room where Surf Ballroom staff is working concessions, providing security, and offering support. We get a lot of thumbs up.

  We press forward never catching our breath. The four of us trade looks showing our amazement to one another. At one point, Laurel turns to me and mouths, “Oh my God.” I smile and nod.

  At another point, Lorelei darts away from her keyboard, comes up behind me, and musses up my hair as we sing. I’m pretending to be bothered by her intrusion but it’s so over the top it’s easy to determine I’m goofing around as much as she is. A quick glance Julie’s way finds her smiling and clapping, not minding another woman is hamming it up with her husband. Lori’s twins are shaking their heads with that “Oh, Mom, you’re embarrassing us again” expression.

  Too soon, we get to our last song Innovation Generation. Innovation Generation is a terrific tune. It’s not just about nostalgia and recalling the glories of our youth. It’s a song of redemption, a song of validation, a song of how Generation X is largely a maligned generation that doesn’t get the credit it deserves for how it has influenced today’s society and paved the way for what Millennials are known for today.

  So, Millennials, you’re gamers, huh? We were first.

  Atari, anyone?

  Oh, you want television on demand? We had it first.

  It’s called the VCR.

  Your cell phones go everywhere with you?

  Mobile phones started with us.

  Cable news networks? We were raised on them.

  This is CNN.

  You want your MTV?

  We’re the MTV generation.

  Social media and connecting online?

  Look up Hypertext and Friendster then get back to us.

  Feel like you’re on your own growing up?

  We were the first latchkey kids.

  You have anxiety that the world is going to end?

  We grew up in a Cold War era wondering if we would die in a rain of nuclear fire courtesy of the Soviet Union.

  As it turns out Generation X and Millennials should be best friends. We have more in common than most people might think. We’re the OG versions of who you are now. We’re you with more experience. You want to change the world, to make it a better place? Us too. We lived in an analog world that transitioned to digital where your entire life has been in a digital world and analog has no meaning, no context. We can help you translate, trust us.

  The thought brings a warm feeling looking out into the audience and seeing a significant number of Millennials in attendance. Generation X paved the way for much of what the generations behind us take for granted today or thinks they invented. Our song is also a celebration of generations in a way that provides a bridge between both.

  Sooner than any of us would like the song winds down and, with it, our concert. Truthfully, only the concert is over after the last song. There will be the after-party that will allow us to mix with our fans and greet our adoring public. We hear the loudest ovation of the evening following the last song’s end.

  The four of us gather again at the front of the stage, line up, grasp hands, take a bow in unison, and then bow one more time because it seems fitting. We release our grips on each other’s hands and wave to what seems like every single person, one by one.

  The curtain closes in front of us separating us from the ballroom. We turn to each other and start high-fiving. Then a quick run off to the side of the stage where we waited to begin our concert a little over an hour ago. The crowd hasn’t stopped cheering and clapping.

  “Whoa! This is phenomenal!” Todd exclaims with delight and shock. “I never thought this was anything but a cheesy idea. Not anymore! This band is the real thing!”

  “We were magnificent!” Lorelei follows up. “This was supposed to be a fun distraction f
or me, a chance to do something fun with friends but we are totally bad ass!”

  “I admit,” Laurel continues the thought flow, “I hadn’t totally bought in until we started practicing. I mean, how capable could we be in a handful of weeks when we’d never played together before?” Her eyes narrow as she nods with determination and endorsement. “We are goooood.”

  The three turn to me expecting comments of self-congratulation but that’s not what they get. I am so choked up no words will come out. This night has meant everything to me. This night was 40 years in the making. What we did tonight was beyond my greatest hopes. Tears start and won’t stop.

  “Oh, Eric,” Lorelei comforts wrapping me in a hug. “You’ve put so much of yourself into this and made such a great effort to pull this off. Look at how great this is. You had the vision, you found us, brought us together, and we are totally rocking it. And, you know what, we’re not done yet.”

  Lorelei releases me so I can wipe the tears off my face. “Whew. Didn’t expect to be that emotional but it’s been...a long, hard road. Thanks, guys, for embracing the vision,” are my first words able to make it out.

  The crowd does not let up. Now they’re chanting. “Onions encore!” Clap, clap, clap-clap-clap. “Onions encore!” Clap, clap, clap-clap-clap. “Onions encore!” Clap, clap, clap-clap-clap.

  Onions At A Crime Scene doesn’t have a deep song library so what does one do for an encore? We had a feeling something like this might happen so we were prepared, just in case. The chanting is allowed to continue just because we want the drama to build.

  “Ready?” Laurel looks around to make eye contact with us, extending her right arm, palm facing the floor. The rest of us do the same so our palms are stacked. “Onions on three,” she says. “One, two, three...”