Comes a Time...this old world keeps spinnin' round

I had to get my passport renewed and part of the process was unearthing my birth certificate. I must admit that wasn't so bad. After all, my age has ceased to annoy me (just the side effects of it), and there would just be the basic information on it - date, time, place, etc. What I was not prepared for was the sad lump in my throat and melancholy feeling that came over me when I read my parents ages. My mom was 19. My dad 24. My mom was just a girl. My dad, a young Korean War vet. Pictures of them from that time show a shiny blond girl and a handsome dark haired husband. The future was ahead of them and I was but the second of 6 more to come. I was the second in a line of 5 girls and 3 boys. I was the second in a family of 3 meals a day, endless loads of clothes, St. Marys uniforms and Easter Sunday dress shoes. I was the second in line for a "if no one admits it, you all get spanked.." spanking, second in line when the roll was called as we loaded in to the car. And so, without warning, my parents found a way in to my heart that day, because their ages were on a piece of paper they had signed so long ago. My mom is 77 now. My dad 82.

My son Levi turned 30 yesterday. My daughter Erinn will be 32 in two weeks. I sometimes still think of them probably in the same way my parents think of me. Aren't you still 5, 10, maybe 15? And why didn't you tell me that you were no longer 17 ? Did you go to bed one night, small and cozy and 3, and wake up long, lanky and 22? Seems like they were always Pozo kids, even though we migrated from Avila. Levi sleeping in a cubby under the bar during Saturday night dances. (!?) I know. Poor kid. And Erinn setting up her arm wrestling challenge with her brother bringing over unsuspecting boys her age.... "I can beat a girl.." they would say. And promptly run away defeated, by a girl. For the most part, my kids were raised at Pozo Saloon. One 4th of July, they hand crushed ice and sold snow cones, another time 10 year old Levi used a push mower on the field before the Whisky Games. They helped wash bar towels, shop at Smart and Final and sweep the floors. They missed weekends for family get togethers and had birthday parties at the Saloon. It has been a family affair and 26 years of it. And this old world does keep spinnin' round. Words from a Neil Young song. As I was writing this, Chick Tuesday was singing it on the back deck, this past beautiful Sunday. The music and more...

"Comes A Time"

Comes a time when you're driftin'

Comes a time when you settle down

Comes a light feelin's liftin' Lift that babyright up off the ground

Oh, this old world keeps spinning round

It's a wonder tall trees ain't layin' down

There comes a time.

You and I we were captured

We took our souls and we flew away

We were right we were giving

That's how we kept what we gave away.

Oh, this old world keeps spinning round

It's a wonder tall trees ain't layin' down

There comes a time.

I Should Be More Like Snoop

So when my son said that Snoop Dogg was booked for Pozo, I was of two minds (or three or four as is my personality, usually quartered not split). I was mentally cleaning up my stress from the 4/20 event and all the turmoil surrounding it. "Oh, I don't know, I know, I think I like him, I'm not sure, what do you think, what do I think, what does your horoscope say, should we have our palms read, is this good, not good...." You would think that when a show is booked, we go about the business of getting on with it. But no, it is really an ordeal. The behind the scenes of actually deciding on and getting on with it is brutal. Over thinking is the rule. Over worrying is the norm. You could tell me the Rolling Stones were booked and I could find every worrisome thing about it - traffic, noise, numbers, generators, kegs, caution tape, Highway Patrol, tortillas, vendors, on and on it goes. I couldn't just have joy in the thought that Mick was going to step on to Pozo soil. I could only think about whether or not we could figure out the guest list at least 48 hours before the concert.


Yes, before each concert there is an excessive amount of worry. I worry, worry, worry and Snoop Dogg made me worry, worry, worry. (looks weird written that many times, maybe that unknowingly is good therapy - such a strange word and with no purpose actually) My grandmother used be such a worrier ("Don't worry Mimi, we promise we won't get in cars with boys.") Anyway, I had misplaced worry about Snoop. Mimi really didn't have misplaced worry about us getting in cars with boys...


Snoop turned out to be one our most fun concerts. Snoop Dogg with a full band - who knew? Rebelution going on stage to such joyous cheers from a crowd that jockeyed to get as close as possible to them. A crowd full of the unlikely (at least for me) - teenagers bringing their father for Fathers Day, mothers and children, the over 50 crowd, a little bit of every demographic. I guess I should have known when some phone calls went "Do you have handicapped parking, I just had hip replacement surgery.." or " Do you charge for 5 year olds?" And I guess I also found the worrying was for naught when I spied my conservative Republican neighbors across the creek having their cheap seat BBQ with all their friends - for Snoop?! Who knew?


And so Snoop was fine - more than fine. He stayed to sign autographs and have pictures taken. Yes, he certainly is tall. Yes, his eyes seemed to be shrinking (what, him worry?) And yes, even with the head of the Narcotic Task Force negative summary of "some of the things that were going on out there”, I spied some fine members of our local law enforcement family enjoying every moment of being part of the audience. And Yes, it is About the Music. The Music that is "what goes on out here..."

It Really is About the Music

Concert families enjoying a day in Pozo.....

Call me gullible, but the day we met with the undercover officers, I felt compelled to believe that there was "intel" that something big was going down, and that was the reason for working the 4/20 concert. Shades of Colombian drug lords and greasy, skinny meth dealers came to mind. After all, if Pablo Escobars long lost distant cousin twice removed was going to be in the parking lot selling drugs out of his Escalade, I should be concerned. That, according to the undercover officers, dealing drugs was the name of the game for the 4 20 day in Pozo. And even though we voiced our opinion that this is not what concerts are about - anywhere - Santa Barbara Bowl, Hollywood Bowl, Mid State Fair, Chumash -they claimed to "know what we didn't ". Maybe we should have been tipped off by their appearance -"my I don't give a shit, don't work look" - the biker gang look (shaved heads, ZZ Top goatees) Not the group that frequents our concerts, hardly a look that would support one of their last statements, "You won't even know we are there."

So, contrary to their claiming that something out of the ordinary was going down that day, and that we wouldn't even know they were there, in retrospect - they were lying. In reality, this operation was to make arrests of concert goers, not to bust the big dealer(s) they claimed would be lurking about. An easy day for them, I suspect they thought, and well, I think 8 hours in a Wal Mart parking lot might yield the same or more. It is just a matter of targeting - picking the mark. Easy. You and I may have been as or more successful. 40 of us let loose 8 hours in any parking lot, anywhere, would get you some shoplifters, drunks in public, panhandlers, someone with a joint or two to sell, child abusers, grocery cart thieves, kids playing hooky, dogs locked in cars with the windows rolled up, someone dinging another car and not leaving a note, someone willing to sell you some Xanax for a six pack, someone hitting their wife, someone doing a line before spending their paycheck on Pringles and Diet Dr. Pepper. We could call in back up to get them to the nearest police station and call it a good day. Easy.

We were also the easy mark. We fell for the "intel" line, no threatening with lawyers or the need for a probable cause search warrant before accommodating undercover in the manner we did. We should have trusted our own instincts when we were first approached. Drugs are not sold at our concerts - we search and wand at the entrance. We do not allow ins or outs. Simple. If you think you are coming in with something to sell - you're not. If you think you are going to hang out in the parking lot and cause problems, it is fully staffed with security and you're not. Simple.

Instead we gave in to the ominous sound of "intel" and "we know what you don't". So, I apologize to our concert audience. We should have looked at 21 years of concerts with no problems. We should remember that is it Really About the Music and our patrons have been loyal and good participants in our concerts. No one goes to a concert to deal drugs, they are there for the music. It is about the music. No one goes to a concert to buy drugs, they are there for the music. We do our concerts well, we bring in top entertainers to the Central Coast and provide a safe, fun atmosphere. Families with small children, teenagers, grandmothers, fathers, lawyers, police officers, doctors, cab drivers, grocery clerks, students, in short all walks of life come to Pozo for the music. From Blues Traveler to Willie Nelson to the Black Crowes to Merle Haggard, something for everyone. And we are sorry that we subjected them to the crushing presence of such a display of power across the street from the music.