This is the story of how rock n roll claimed my left eye. It’s always a hit with swaggy fellas looking to meet a bang-up chick, even if I am pushing the tin can over the other side of the hill.
Sandy Swamps may be buzzard toast these days, but back when I was wearing saddle shoes, people swarmed this town in the summer for the fishing and the drinking. The population of Sea Maiden’s Mobile Park would triple over night, come June. And my daddy always had a show for the summer folk. He’d tune his bones all winter, then let the music run gator-wild through the park every summer night.
From the time I could crawl, I was cock-a-doodling right next to him, daddy on guitar, me on tambourine, playing remember-that-tunes and the hot tops from the radio: Elvis and Mr. Lee Lewis. Come 16, my legs were making us real popular and my voice wasn’t bad either. Daddy decided we should take it to the waves.
That was the start of Cindy Lee’s Lost at Sea Grandtime Jam Time Row Your Boat Tour, Sandy Swamps’ only ocean dance party. First night was just 10 lucky folks on a borrowed fishing boat, rocking along with the waves. I bet they heard us all the way in Cuba and thought we weren’t half bad.
But sharks hail The King, did you know that? “A Big Hunk o’ Love” brought them all shaking their fin feathers. Chewed up our little boat like a cracker that night. Chewed right through the guitar my daddy tried to beat them away with. Chewed through half our clients and left the rest of us floating for the seagulls.
Gulls will dive right in on anything shiny, you know.
Can’t really blame ‘em for that.