Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: TUESDAY, March 2, 1993 TAG: 9303020031
SECTION: CURRENT PAGE: NRV2 EDITION: NEW RIVER VALLEY
SOURCE:
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
REPORTER SORE THUMB IN OLD HAUNT
Thomas Wolfe was right: You can't go home again - especially when "home" is your favorite college bar and you're 10 years older.I found that out Feb. 11 when Ice-T raised the possibility that he might show up at a Radford bar after his speech and sing a song.
Someone had brought up what they thought was a local example of censorship, when members of a band named for a male sexual-enhancement device were charged with distributing obscene fliers and giving an obscene performance in May 1991 at Lucky's in Radford.
The charges eventually were dismissed.
Responding to the question, Ice-T pulled a flier from his pocket and read. The Radford band's lead singer and drummer would return to the same stage that night.
"In honor of Ice-T and his appearance at Radford University, Billy Tresky will return to the stage where he was arrested by Radford police for obscenity."
Ohhhh, I thought, there's a story here. What if the band gets arrested again?
Ice-T voiced his support of the band and said he might even show up, too, and grab the mike. Ice-T? Performing at a Radford bar? What if he sings that song?
I raced from the auditorium. Visions of a story to be picked up across the nation danced in my head.
Found a pay phone. Called the city desk. Trumpeted the possibilities. Editor agreed. Raced to an automatic teller, got enough money for the cover charge and a drink or two.
Walked in.
Stuck out like a sore thumb.
I forgot: I'm almost 30. I forgot: This is a college town. You don't come to bars dressed in business wear and a full-length winter coat.
Thinking quickly, I headed to the bar, bought a beer, tipped the waitress and stood. Alone, fighting over an ashtray with a group of people who were with each other and had someone to talk to.
This very bar, several names ago, used to be my favorite hangout when I was a Radford University student. As a writer for the student newspaper, my job was to cover the bar scene. I was almost a fixture. I knew the owners. I knew the waiters. I knew the regulars. I fit in.
Not anymore.
I tried to mingle, but felt like every eye was on me. I wanted another beer, but I also wanted to be ready for anything. I drank five glasses of water because the soft drink machine was broken.
Just as I was deciding nothing was worth this, a familiar face walked in. Joe Steffen, the lawyer who represented the band on the obscenity charges. He manages bands and runs Misha Records.
Joe was trying to do managerial things. But he took the time to speak with me about the possibilities of Ice-T showing up.
"It's a cliche in the music industry that someone will say they're coming out," Joe said, but Ice-T has always been helpful to small bands.
And, his security had called to ask about the bar and held out the slim hope that the singer might show.
I got excited again about the possible story. The bar began to fill up, and I hoped I wouldn't stick out as much. Leaving the security of the bar and the ash tray, I stood with other people on the main floor as Play War, the opening band, completed its set.
Grind, the group that has two members of the band that was arrested in May 1991, took the stage.
The bar began to fill up with people who had just left Preston Auditorium where Ice-T has appeared. People whispered about the possibilities of T showing up. A loud knock at the back door caused many people to stare, hoping it was him, coming in through the alley to sneak to the stage.
Nope.
Then, several people found something new to stare at. Me.
As the band played its traditional thrash-mosh music, spoke out against censorship, had a few choice words for Radford police, people began to notice: someone was taking notes.
Someone in a business suit, all alone, who didn't fit in.
Who was this person who seemed to be counting the f-words? It wasn't my imagination. Someone would turn around. Look at me. Tap their friend on the shoulder. Whisper. The friend would turn to look at me.
Oh, God, I thought. They think I'm the police.
I decided I deserved another beer. I got it, and headed for the security of the wall nearest the bouncers. They were closer to my age group and seemed to be keeping an eye on me.
I clung to the wall for dear life, as the band went into a heavy-duty mosh song that sent the front-row crowd into a fury of semi-slam dancing. Some tried to storm the stage.
Last call. Then, last song. I looked hopefully toward the steps, toward the back door. There still was a possibility Ice-T would show, I thought. If I left now, I would kick myself in the morning.
But the song was over and the bouncers were herding the crowd out.
As I headed to the door, one asked me what I thought.
"Oh, it was good!" I responded. I muttered something about really being a hard rock fan and being used to this, about the band not being as raunchy as I heard they were when they were arrested.
I raced down the steps, and out of there. It was 2 a.m. I was headed home.
Kathy Loan covers police and courts for the Roanoke Times & World-News' New River Valley bureau.