For Pollo Del Mar, getting out of town is a rarity, but one that we enjoy immensely. In the fall of '98 we had two trips planned, one to Seattle, the other to Southern California. We knew that we were going to have to lay low over the winter as other projects would keep us from playing shows, so this would be our send off to a great summer.
 

The Seattle show was fun as we hooked with a lot of fans who had been corresponding with us over the internet. We played with Plank and The Deep End at a show set up by Mark of King of Hawaii. We drank coffee, marveled at the rain and saw the Space Needle. The 26 hour drive was pretty miserable, but scenic.

A week later, we were off for Los Angeles. We had hoped to book a weekend full of gigs, but it turned out that we could only put together two shows, one at the most famous surf parking lot in the world, The Huntington Beach international Surfing Museum, the other at The Foothill Club in Long Beach.

When we got to Huntington Beach, it was a cold November day. This is supposed to be Surf City, but it was rainy and wet. The last time we played here it was July, and we practically melted, saved only be the sea breeze. Today, we should have worn wet-suits. We played two sets, and our fingers were numb and dumb playing outside. Still, we had a great time, played a few songs that we probably shouldn't have played, and got to hook up with Dale from the Bone Sharks, John Blair and Dave Arnson of The Insect Surfers, not to mention our SoCal fans, friends and family.

After the show we walked out on the Huntington Beach Pier for a look around. It was freezing, foggy, windy and we were chilled to the bone. We couldn't wait to get back in the van and drive up the coast to Long Beach.

We found the Foothill Club easily, it's huge neon sign a beacon on top of Signal Hill. The Foothill is a honky tonk in the grand style. Pool tables,wood dance floor, ash-trays on every table, even though it is illegal to smoke in bars. We set up our gear, and wandered around the club. The men's room was like a prison barrack with toilets n the middle of the room and no stalls... The walls of the club have poster size pictures of some of the legends who have played there- Hank Williams, Gene Autrey, Johnny Cash... The Foothill is a great and storied bar, but legends don't bring in crowds, unless they are playing that night.

At 7PM the club was still empty, so we decided to do a "Happy Hour" set of trad surf tunes. The warm-up turned into a full 45 minute set as we ran over every cover we knew. It was a blast and had the few patrons there whistling and calling out requests.

Around 8, we took a break. Jamie, our host for the evening, and the shows promoter gave us the run down on the club. Jamie is a tireless promoter of surf music, and the club had given her Sunday nights to try and put a regular surf gig together. Well, that is all they gave her, not even mentioning her shows in their local ads or in-club flyers.

Nine o'clock showtime. Two paying customers, the place was just dead.We remember that this is night of the X-Files '98 premier, and since we share a demographic with Duchovny, Anderson and the Smoking Man, we figure that we just lost our ratings share for the time slot.

And here is where the greatest irony of all occurs. After playing two sets in the afternoon, and the happy hour set, we are completely warmed up. We play a perfect set... no muffed endings or missed cues, no doing bad notes or bad harmony lines. It was one of the best shows that we had ever played, and for all of 10 people, including the bar staff.

Monday morning, as we drove back to S.F., we witnessed a grizzly accident on our way out town. A car was abandoned in the middle of the 405, stopped dead. The car's driver was non-chalantly leaning up against the median in the middle of the freeway. We swerved to miss the car, but the Semi behind us hit it, and sent a guy on a motorcycle flying as he laid his bike down going 60 mph. The last thing we saw was the motorcyclist hobbling to get to the side of the freeway across 3 lanes of traffic. All of this in 15 seconds time.