Summertime in winter

It all started at the Bobbie Jean’s jukebox, and the Bobbie Jean’s jukebox was the best one in Cairo, New York.

Sure, I can only think of three places in Cairo that had a jukebox and I was there maybe a total of 10 days a year, but the people have spoken. And by “the people,” I mean “person,” and by “person, “ I mean “I,” and, really, who wants to lay everything out in a sentence right from the start?

Anyway, I guess the proper thing to say instead of making bold declarations of fact based on opinion would be to say that I loved the Bobbie Jean’s jukebox as a kid. It was right behind the wall separating the lobby from the restaurant, which was a frequent stop for me and my family on our Greene County summer vacations of the ’80s and ’90s. I assume we first went there because they had chicken fingers and french fries, and such things were needed to appease me when the (very delicious and lovingly prepared) food at the resort we stayed at was not something I would deign to eat. And so we drove down the hill to either Van’s or Bobbie Jean’s and the Finicky Beast was tamed.

Van’s also had a pretty good jukebox (and very good chicken fingers and fries, plus soft serve ice cream), with the star track being ELO’s “Rock and Roll Is King,” which I loved because it was the entrance music for legendary wrestling tag team The Rock and Roll Express, who I thought were super cool (I still think they are). And that jukebox was literally the only place I could hear that song outside of a wrestling show in the mid 1980s. I mean, I guess I could have bought an ELO cassette. But that seems like a lot for a preteen to take on.

But I was talking about Bobbie Jean’s, wasn’t I? I wish I could show you a picture of it, but it is long gone as a business, and the building on Main Street was knocked down several years ago too. I can still sort of picture the layout if I think really hard, but the two parts I remember most were the phone booth (where my folks once called to check on my sister at home, only to be told that, according to my sister, a seagull had flown into one of our windows in the back of our house and shattered said window; this was a lie, and my parents appeared to buy it) and the aforementioned jukebox, which, you might remember, I loved.

The star track on the Bobbie Jean’s jukebox was “I Wish I Had a Girl” by Henry Lee Summer. Most people I mention the song to have a vague recollection of it, and only a small fraction recognize it after I start singing it (and that small fraction might just say they recognize it because they would prefer I stop singing). It was a minor hit on the Billboard Top 100 (#20) but did top the Mainstream Rock chart. But I don’t care what the charts say; it was one of my top jams in 1988, which, coincidentally, was around the time I started thinking, “Hey, I think I do wish I had a girl.” Maybe not quite the girl Henry Lee was pining for in the song, but, I mean, if a girl with that 9-to-5 strut had been interested in me at 11, I guess I would have had to consider it. I would have considered anyone. And was in fact considering one who did not appear to be considering me, which, as the saying goes, is what makes the jukebox play.

The song had many things going for it (other than Henry Lee’s A+ mullet), and still does. A catchy chorus easy to sing along with. Some call and tesponse. Cool lines like the “9-to-5 strut” one. A good breakdown building to a big climax. And two good screams. Good screams in a song are important.

But it was all of that combining with me wishing I had a girl too that made it an important song to me, one that I held on to in 1988 and in the years that immediately followed. And none of those years, it should be noted, involved me having a girl. modern-day Jezebel or otherwise.

The song understood, which is why I played it a lot on the jukebox at Bobbie Jean’s. And it’s also why several years ago, I decided that someday I would see Henry Lee Summer sing that song live.

Someday was last Friday.

I don’t know the exact time that elapsed between me having the thought that I wanted to hear “I Wish I Had a Girl” live and the time I actually heard it, but it was a while. First, Henry Lee has had some struggles with drugs, which I won’t link to here but I’m sure you can find about online if you care to. The important thing is that he got help for his addiction and found a way to survive that enables him to press on with several years of sobriety under his belt. And I hope he forever continues on that path.

So, for a few years, there weren’t a lot, or even any, Henry Lee Summer shows. But the thing that made my “I Wish I Had a Girl” Quest a challenge was that once he was well enough to get back out and perform and there were shows, these shows were only happening in his native Indiana, and usually somewhat rural areas of Indiana at that. I do not live in Indiana. I do not know very much about Indiana. But I do know that every time I heard of a Henry Lee show and Googled where it was, it was very obvious that a gentleman from New Jersey who does not drive would have a very difficult, if not impossible, time getting to that Henry Lee show.

But I did notice that he seemingly did one show in Indianapolis every year, in December or January. Though I hate flying anywhere in the winter, particularly in the Midwest, there was no denying I could get to Indianapolis pretty easily. And the last time I flew to the Midwest in the winter to meet someone who rarely left his state of residence, it worked out great. Well, I did get snowed in in Milwaukee for a day, but I met Bob Uecker and got my picture taken with him, so that qualifies as “great” to me.

Yeah, Indianapolis in January needed to happen.

8 Seconds Saloon in Indianapolis is probably not a place where I would find myself a lot. There was a mechanical bull and people line dancing to Steve Earle’s “Copperhead Road” (yes, this happened, and, yes, I have a video; it will be on my phone for eternity, or until my phone dies), and while I’m not against either of those things, they’re not something I’d seek out. But it all felt pretty good when I took my spot on the rail after the opening band finished and waited for Henry Lee and his band to take the stage. And as he and his band took the stage, it felt good that a journey that started with a jukebox in a restaurant in Upstate New York was about to reach its exciting conclusion in a country bar in Indianapolis.

And when Henry Lee started with a cover of the Cornelius Brothers and Sister Rose’s “Treat Her Like a Lady,” a jam I’m sure I heard on the car radio as we were riding around the Catskills long ago, I knew the wait was going to be worth it. He also covered two other songs I love (Norman Greenbaum’s “Spirit in the Sky” and the Georgia Satellites’ “Keep Your Hands to Yourself”) in the set, so it really felt like this was where I was meant to be that night. It was all enough to make a guy want to give that mechanical bull a whirl after all!

Or maybe just stay where he was and sing along real loud.

“I Wish I Had a Girl” arrived early (his other hit, “Hey Baby,” was saved for later in the set; see him perform it on The Arsenio Hall Show here, or I can sing that to you too), and when the first notes reached my ear, it felt perfect. I tried to be as in the moment as I could but had to record the “9-to-5 strut” verse to keep for posterity. But at every other point of the song, I was bouncing and singing as loud as I possibly could, probably not advisable because I was generally sick—tested negative for COVID three times before I left and still almost bailed on completing the quest—and my throat was not feeling that great, but you’re only at your first Henry Lee Summer show at a country bar in Indianapolis once. And through it all, I was remembering the good and bad (mostly bad) of wishing I had a girl for the first time, and thinking all of that brought me to the moment I was living. A really great moment. Look at what a song can do.

And, yes, I screamed at the appropriate part.

I’ve probably mentioned this before, but I’ll say it again because this keyboard’s looking at me and telling me to do it: I have reached the point in my concertgoing life where I have been lucky enough to see everyone I really care to see. And that’s why I’m more likely to fly to Indianapolis on a Friday to see a guy play a song I loved when I was a kid and continue to love now. And I have seen the Rolling Stones and Prince and Bruce Sprinsgsteen and Bob Dylan (40 times!), and I have had a great time seeing all of them and left all of those shows happy, satisfied, and knowing that I was lucky enough to be alive and have the means to see all that greatness.

But did I have a moment at any of those shows where I felt as good as when I finally heard a song whose video I saw on MTV and played many, many times on a jukebox at a now-demolished restaurant almost 35 years ago?

I mean, I could write the answer here, but I think you know it.

I wanted to say something like that to Henry Lee Summer after the show, but I was nervous of passing along whatever illness I had to him, so I kept it brief, had him sign my record, and told him I came from New Jersey and “I Wish I Had a Girl” was one of my favorite songs. He was very grateful I had come such a long way and said he hoped it was worth the trip.

It was, Henry Lee. And I wanted to tell you about the jukebox and wishing I had a girl for a long time and a lot of other things that it’s probably a good thing I didn’t say anyway.

Music is the best.

God bless Henry Lee Summer.

Long live the Bobbie Jean’s jukebox.