I go bonkers for Dick.
I’ve been a strong, believing Dick Dale fan since my prepubescent years as a Dickhead clad in a 50 cent Reyn Spooner shirt bought at the Torrance Salvation Army. Seeing the Dick was something most the kids didn’t really get 12 years ago, as the fodder of the day blazin’ from the mini-truckin’ Chevy S-10s, grandparent hand me downs, and the rice rockets of my high school parking lot, which included the banter of Pennywise/98mute/Deviates/Epithath catalogue, gangsta rap, or the generic offerings of LA radio.
The Dick, as well as the Ventures, the Pyramids, the Bel-Airs, the Chantays and the more contemporary surf inspired bands such as the Insect Surfers and the Cramps, played on my pre-surf bike rides to Torrance Beach. The CD-man skipped almost on every other note of that signature wet spring reverb sound as I peddled down PV Blvd.
My first chance to see the Dick happened to be at the annual Redondo Beach Lobsterfest. Word got to me at the weekly Ruby’s Car show that fall via a flyer placed underneath a window wiper of my ‘59 Galaxie. I enthusiastically fetched the sacred promotional piece and placed it into my glove box in preparation of the spreading the good word via AOL Instant Messenger.
Accompanying me was a young Mike Siordia, a dude who I’ve covered plenty of times throughout the years, still surf with everyday, and is my best friend. This was a pre-tattooed Mike, before the dyed black poodled hair, and then the dreadlocks, and whatever metamorphoses we all go through the decade of our 20s. Mike was just the simple surf cat cloaked in his Dewey Weber team jacket and hepped up on his Weber Performer. His pops, Big Mike, then the shop manager at Wayne Miyata Surfboards on 6th and Valley, entrusted me to get the young Siordia home at a decent hour.
After walking through the onslaught of Lobsterfest attendees basking in the buttery residues of the boiled crustaceans and barley and oat sodas, the duo of us parked it three feet from stage. The Dick appeared on stage and proclaimed the call that would lead us on a many surf safaris, “Let’s GO TRIPPIN’!” He played a few tracks of one of my favorite records of all time, “Surfer’s Choice,” the first Dick Dale offering I purchased at the now defunct Go-Boy’s record on PCH next to Pat’s II Cocktails.
Towards the end of the show – after Dick showed us his virtuosity by playing the trumpet, then the drums, and explained how his technique of playing guitar is based on his percussionist background – he brought out his son, Jimmy Dale, barely ten years old, to play “Miserlou” with him. Dick instructed his son as the two sat side-by-side on stage going through the notes. After an ovation, Jimmy went backstage and Dick laid into Miserlou at supersonic speeds.
Throughout the 2000s, I’d see Dick whenever he was in town, sometimes out of town, leading to many good Dick Dale memories. The day before New Year’s Eve 2010, a friend of mine, of a certain Gato Heroi Surfboards fame, phoned me that he reserved a ticket for me at San Juan Capistrano’s Coach House. Basically, just show up, as he’d meet me at the venue (no cellphone for this dude.) I made the trek, passing the Orange County curtain into the heart of the OC beast, a South Bay cat ready to pounce on a good time.
The proprietor of Gato Heroi was running late. He appeared just after the first song with red wine smile, drenched in sweat from maniacally flooring his old GMC shortbus on the I-5, but otherwise completely jazzed. We danced, drank, drank again, and ended up taking the afterparty to a multi-story house best described as a psychedelic maze in the foothills of San Clemente sipping more vino into the morning. Somehow, I carried on for New Year’s the next day.
Sunday, May 26th, Dick Dale is back in town playing at Sainte Rocke. Jimmy Dale, all grown up, is back behind the drum set, as the 76-year-old Dale is ready to set fire to his signature upside-down Fender Stratocaster. Saint Rocke is the King of the Surf Guitar’s last stop in California. The “Father of Loud” will move on to Idaho and make his way across the Midwest. Use the PROMO CODE: SURFGOD when buying your tickets on Saint Rocke’s website and get $5 off. Be hep, don’t be square, and I hope to see you all there.
