The summer tour was basically an excuse for me to get to the Jersey Shore without missing a show. I don't miss shows. Chris T. and I arrived at the Memory Motel on Friday and hit the beach. Miles and miles of beach in Wildwood and I hadn't seen it since I stayed at a place called "The Jones Boys" as a child.
     Soon thereafter The IBJ began to arrive. First was 'Sandwich Man' who spent the weekend living in his car. Together we strolled the boardwalk and rode the backwards rollercoaster. We got in a little gaming too and I, being drunk and having the steadiest hand, managed to defeat the boys in the water-gun game. I won a stuffed dog with a cigar in his mouth. I still have him. He is now my best friend.
     On Saturday morning the IBJ arrived by the carload. The gang included Scoop and X.Ray, Mr. & Mrs. Gary Unalcoholic (not to be confused with Garry Alcoholic). Skiff, Mr. & Mrs. Chin, Fusco and Gus, Janet & Adam, among others. Ken Fusion and Rich Richle snuck Grubbis into their room and when they were found out, they reported a strange black man had broken into the room. That would be Grubbis. The festivities were under way.
      Saturday was to be pill and liquor day. At least it was for me. A liquor run was in order. Fusion, Scoop, Mr. & Mrs. Chin and I piled into Skiff's truck and went shopping for booze. The liquor store had one of those scantily dressed field reps handing out free shots of something chocolatey. Something tells me that is illegal but I didn't mind. We all had armfuls of booze and while congregating in the parking lot a few of us were asked to run (purchase liquor for a minor) by a kid holding a handful of twenties. I adamantly told him "no fucking way" and to get lost. The others followed my lead. That's when Chin came out and pointed to the narcs (or undercover cops if you will). It had been a set-up. Had I told the kid yes, there would be no live broadcast and I would have been in jail.
     That night we all boarded the trolley bus and went to the boardwalk. An inebriated Chris T. rang the Trolley's bell all the way. Within seconds of our arrival an IBJ member was looking for change of a twenty for a drug deal he had set up. Don't know if it ever worked out. I stumbled into bed when the IBJ began to take on the form of lizards. I wanted no part of the half-men half-amphibians that would party into the night including an outdoor poker game and a knife fight. I miss out on all the fun!
      Setting up the remote gear at 8AM on Sunday was memorable. Relief hit me when we established continuity to the station. It was time to drink - it was showtime! Some IBJ members were just waking up, others lounging and swimming. The music was fucking great if I do say so myself. At that moment in time all was perfect. Surreal. We might as well been in fucking Jamaica or something. It was 90 degrees and the records were melting on the turntables. Caliente! Mucho Caliente!!! The cops dropped by several times during the afternoon to tell us how much the neighbors were enjoying the music. Somebody lit one up. He shouldn't have, but he always does. Rock & roll and all that.
      After the show Ken Fusion passed out in the sun for several hours on a concrete slab. Fusco bloodied himself and nearly drowned in a drunken diving accident. Scoop and I went to the ocean. We always admired Dennis Wilson. X.Ray napped before the final boardwalk run. A few of us drank into the night and kept each other laughing. Presto--she is done and the IBJ summer tour was off and running.

- jonesey