I describe the legendary Palomino in Rain Dodging:
Entering the legendary Palomino Club on the fringe of North Hollywood was like stumbling onto a B-grade spaghetti western set. Walking past the bouncer, “Tiny,” a 300-pound Hoss Cartwright doppelganger, into the dark, musty club was like time-traveling back to an era when men were men and women were unimportant. It seemed it had been that long since the floors had been swept. Dusty signed photographs of every country-western star imaginable crowded worn imitation wood-paneled walls. Above a long banquette of red Naugahyde booths, hand-painted Day-Glo posters illuminated by black light advertised coming attractions: Dwight Yoakam, Jerry Lee Lewis, Asleep at the Wheel, John Anderson. There were so many leftover staples in the wall from removed posters, I couldn’t lean back. Linda Ronstadt had performed at The Palomino on amateur nights when she was still a hippy with hairy armpits. It was the perfect hole-in-the-wall for a rowdy evening of great music. But it was the kind of place where you peed before you went and prayed you didn’t have to again until you got home.
I was cocktail waitressing at the Pal, my closet fantasy to be a cocktail waitress coming true, at the renowned nightclub, no less.
Every evening began with a sound check. This particular night, Jack Mack and the Heart Attack were scheduled to play. (Tidbit: They were the band that was performing at the 1996 Summer Olympics in Atlanta when the pipe bomb exploded) It was late afternoon, during their sound check. No other than Glenn Frey was sitting at a front table. He was one of the bands producers.
I just had to.
I bought a Corona from the front bar and approached his table. “This is for all of the delight. Thank you.”
Frey died in 2016 at the age of only 67, from complications of rheumatoid arthritis, colitis, and pneumonia. Who knew he would die so early. I sure am glad a bought him a beer. I met gobs of musicians during my first marriage. But serving Glenn Frey a beer is a highlight. “Take it easy.”
“For the record, we never broke up. We just took a 14-year vacation.”
