Dave’s Not Here, Man!

The only connection this story has to anything even remotely related to music, the guitar or playing in bands is that two of the main characters are myself and the lead singer (Dave) of the band I was in, Open Road Conspiracy. No jam tale, no guitar lesson...just a story I wanted to preserve because it’s so improbable. I’ve been sitting on it for 55 years! I have not exaggerated or embellished it in any way - you'll just have to trust me on that.

If you want to understand some of the backstory or context, just read the story of Open Road Conspiracy.

It was the spring of 1971; I was fifteen years old, Dave was 16. We were in this band together, hanging out a lot and engaging in various altered states of consciousness and pharmacological communion.

Dave was dating a girl, we’ll call her “Mary.” Mary’s dad had never met Dave, he’d only seen Dave's silhouette, sitting in his car in the dark one night when dropping Mary off after a date.

Now, even though Dave was only a year older than me, he was two years ahead of me in school, and he and Mary really wanted to go to the senior prom.

However, Mary’s dad, based wholly on the dark silhouette he’d seen, refused to let Mary go to the prom unless Dave got "...a shave, a haircut and took a bath.”

Looking back on it, and after raising a couple of my own daughters, I’m inclined to have some respect for the instincts of Mary’s dad. Plus, even at the time, I thought it was weird that a counterculture hippie-type guy like Dave really wanted to go to the prom. I had a nagging suspicion he just wanted to spend the night with Mary - if you know what I mean.

Anyway, Dave hatched this plan; since I was clean-shaven and had - well, not exactly short hair, but shorter than Dave’s - I would pose as Dave, meet Mary’s parents with the goal of getting Mary’s dad’s permission to take Mary to the prom.

Having achieved that, on prom night I would pick up Mary, and then pick up Dave. Dave would then drop me off at a friend’s house where I would spend the night. The next morning, Dave and Mary would pick me up, and I would take Mary home.

Of course, there were a few details that needed ironing out, not the least of which was I didn’t know how to drive.

What could possibly go wrong?

So, Dave taught me to drive his Karmann Ghia. Yeah, a poor man’s sports car; manual transmission of course.

Not Dave's car, but one like it.

Dave would be waiting for me on the corner at the end of the block, so all I had to do was drive half a block, park it in Mary’s driveway, back it out of the driveway and drive back a half block to Dave. Because the actual driving was minimal, we weren't really worried about the fact that I was too young to have a driver's license.

I learned to drive it pretty well in a couple of sessions. We practiced using the clutch, shifting gears and driving into and backing out of a driveway.

The meeting with Mary’s parents went without a hitch; I parked in the driveway, introduced myself as Dave, was ushered into the living room, chatted for a few minutes with Mary's mom and dad, successfully backed out of the driveway, and drove a half block to where Dave was waiting.

Stage 1 accomplished!

I learned later that Mary’s dad had said,

“Well, he’s still pretty shaggy but I guess he’s done a lot for you, so you can go to the prom.”

He was right in a way; Dave was doing a LOT! - to avoid a shave, a haircut and a bath.

Now you may be asking,

“Why were you going along with this ridiculous plan? What did you have to gain from all this?”

You know, I've asked myself that same question. The only honest answer I can come up with is - some kind of misplaced loyalty? Or maybe that it would instill some kind of loyalty in Dave for me? Or that he would think I was cool? I mean, in a way we were brothers-in-arms because we played in a band together and were already friends. Pulling off something like this together would help the esprit de corps of the band, dig?

• "Esprit de corps: a feeling of pride, fellowship, and common loyalty shared by the members of a particular group."

I've also wondered in the years since; did Dave really think his cockamamie scheme would actually work? Obviously he did.

And what was Mary thinking? I have no idea.

Maybe - because of our frequently altered states of consciousness - none of us was thinking straight. That's the most likely reason by far.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

So, we worked out the details. The prom was on a Saturday night. I arranged to spend the night at Brad's house. Brad was the rhythm guitar player for Open Road Conspiracy. This was so I could take my Sunday clothes with me on Saturday night. Dave and Mary would pick me up Sunday morning at Brad's and would drop me off at church after I had taken Mary back home.

So, as far as my parents knew, I was spending the night at Brad's with Dave to have band practice and jam, and would meet them at church on Sunday morning.

As with all good lies, that was mostly true. I was spending the night at Brad’s and we were practicing and jamming. If my parents called Brad’s house to check up on me it was highly likely that I’d be there with guitar in hand.

Dave's plan for the prom night out was that after I picked up Mary, and then picked him up on the corner a half-block away, he would drop me off at Brad's and take Mary to dinner at the restaurant where he worked as a dishwasher.

He had all his coworkers clued in; they were expecting him and Mary. The multi-course meal was already planned along with a special table, candles and the whole works. Then they would go to the prom and whatever after-prom activities they had planned. I was not privy to that. On Sunday morning they would pick me up, I would deliver Mary home, and Dave would drop me off at church.

Piece of cake. And logically, it was. The hard part was already done; we had convinced Mary's dad that I was Dave and had received his permission for Mary to go with Dave to the prom.

So the big day arrived. Dave picked me up and we changed clothes in a gas station bathroom. He had rented a purple tux-with-tails and a top hat. This makes me think that he wasn't just after getting into Mary's pants; he was really into this prom thing!

After all, he was the lead singer in a rock band, so by definition there had to be some kind of narcissistic, dress-up tendencies, yes?

All I had was my Sunday-go-to-meetin' clothes.

Dave got out of the car to wait on the corner and I drove into the driveway just like I had before.

Mary's mom had a boutonnière ready that she pinned on my lapel and me and Mary posed for some prom night photos. I like to think that somewhere there's a scrapbook with a bunch of photos of "Dave" and Mary on prom night!

Then back out to the Karmann Ghia. That’s where and when things began to go horribly wrong!

The car wouldn't start.

I'm sure Mary's parents thought the look of distress and panic on “Dave's” face was because his romantic prom plans designed to impress their daughter were going very awry at that moment.

Her dad looked at the engine for a minute but couldn't find anything obviously wrong.

He said,

"I know a guy who will come take a look at the car. Why don't you let me take you two kids to the restaurant while my guy comes to fix the car? I'll come pick you up after the meal, bring you back here and then you can be on your way. Worst-case scenario is I'll take you to the prom."

Yeah...I was thinking of a worst-case scenario that was worse than that! Much…more…worse!

Well, what choice did we have? Mary sent her little sister up to the corner to warn Dave so he wouldn't be standing there like an idiot in his purple tux-with-tails and top hat when we drove by.

The corner was empty as we passed with Mary's dad driving. Mary’s sister had told us that Dave just took off running! Wish I could've seen that! A long-haired freak in a purple tux-with-tails and top hat sprinting in a panic randomly through the neighborhood! We had no idea where Dave was or what he was going to do, if anything. The whole thing had spiraled quickly out of control.

Needless to say, the crew at the restaurant was very confused. Fortunately, they already knew Mary, who explained our predicament. So they served us the prom night meal anyway, with the candles and everything...I thought that was a very sweet and comforting gesture. I was touched.

In the middle of the meal, one of the waitresses comes to the table and says,

"There's a phone call for Mary."

The blood drained from her face. She went to answer the phone. A couple minutes later she came back to the table and in a very subdued voice said,

"That was my dad. The car is fixed. But he said a really weird-looking, long-haired guy dressed in a tux and top hat just knocked on the front door and said his name was Jay EuDaly, and that that was his car! He's standing on the front porch right now!"

Quick-thinking-Mary said she had told her dad,

"Oh, that's Dave's best friend! We were supposed to double-date with Jay and his girlfriend! We forgot because of everything that happened!"

Dad: "Well, do you want me to let him have the car?"

Mary: "Sure, they can pick us up here and we can all go to the prom together like we planned."

She looked at me with both hope and fear in her eyes and said,

"I hope to God dad lets him take the car!"

So about 20 minutes later as we were finishing our meal, Dave walked in. Whew! The crew at the restaurant cheered, clapped and congratulated the three of us - those were good folks!

Dave was like, “Dude! You ate my dinner!”

Ok, that pissed me off! After all we’d been through, just so he wouldn’t have to cut his hair and jump through a few hoops, that was his concern?

I was like, “I deserved it because of what I’m doing for you, ya freakin’ goober!”

Memory is a fickle thing, but I think my exact pejorative was, “Ya fuckin’ idiot!”

So Dave and Mary dropped me off at Brad's and went to the prom.

That was the last time Dave and Mary ever went out. If you think about it - which we obviously weren’t - just the fact that we miraculously succeeded doomed Dave and Mary’s relationship. To Mary’s parents, I was Dave and Dave was me - and we definitely couldn’t keep that up!

I mean, how far could we take this thing? Was I gonna pretend to be Dave at the wedding?

The next morning, after a night of whatnot-and-what-have-ya, Dave and Mary picked me up at Brad’s. Once again, Dave got out to wait on the corner, and I drove Mary home.

This time I didn't turn off the car.

Just in case Mary's dad was watching, we had a good long smooch before Mary got out of the car and went into the house. Gotta make it look real, you know.

I carefully backed out of the driveway, drove a half-block and picked up Dave.

Then I went to church.

Me in 1971 - Click the pic for my Bio

“Dave's Not Here!”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1nxK_hGLTN4

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