Jerry's Trout Pizza: First episode
Posted by drblt at 5/12/2009 2:03 PM 
Categories: blog books, stories
Tags: nu bako sound nu bako trout's nightclub blackboard bakersfield sound bakersfield sound underground Jerry's pizza
Categories: blog books, stories
Tags: nu bako sound nu bako trout's nightclub blackboard bakersfield sound bakersfield sound underground Jerry's pizza
Welcome to a brand new Bakersfield Sound Underground blog storybook adventure, where you, the blog visitor, get to add to every episode. You can make it turn out bad, good, neutral, or any old way you'd like the story to turn out. This series is called Jerry's Trout Pizza. Whether you're a Buck Owens or a Buzzcocks fan, whether you are a Hank Ray, or an Operation Ivy fan, whether you are a Black Flag fan or a Merle Haggard fan, you'll fan fun hanging out in the imaginary punky-tonk territory known as Jerry's Trout Pizza, where they serve fresh fish on dry, buttery, hard crust as experimental bands, duos and solo artists come in to serve up the best fusion of post-korn-kccrock (Kern County Country Rock), mixing up the old and new, the borrowed and the blue, just for you. And without further ado, this is Jerry's Trout Pizza!
Jerry's Trout Pizza (the song)
Dr BLT
words and music by Dr BLT © 2009
Somewhere on an imaginary, winding, gravel road heading northwest, out of Bakersfield is a motley crew of disenfranchised travelers, ages 12-55, all heading towards a place called Jerry's Trout Pizza. It's a place that gets its name from 2 of the hottest spots in Bakersfield to rise up from the ruins since the Blackboard----Trout's Nightclub, a famous honky-tonk on Chester Avenue in Oildale, and from Jerry's Pizza, a place where famous post-punk acts got their start, or multiplied their fortunes while teen-ragers ate pizza as they prepared to literally butt heads on the slam dance floor. It's a punkountry pilgrimage that nobody forgets and nobody completely returns from. Dr. BLT and Hank Ray have already arrived. Jerry Rothberg, the owner and bartender fills up a couple of cold mugs with their favorite beer------Canadian Molson for Dr. BLT and a new beer, brewed by a bunch of Arkansas hillbillies called Anteater for Hank. "So, Jerry, what's going on tonight?" Hank asked eagerly, as he took his first sip of Anteater. "Killer brew, by the way," he added gleefully.
Well, Hank, my house band, Blue Mirror will team up with the Throats at about 10 to put out some spontaneous blues post-punk fusion like you never heard in your life, that's what goin' on. Jerry puffed out his chest proudly, but deep inside, he wasn't quite sure how his brand of blues would be received by the Throats. He had talked to Throat's frontman, Gopher earlier in the afternoon and he seemed to Jerry to be a bit closed minded to the bluesier side of the Bakersfield sound.
Walter Stormont walked in, looked around the joint, then approached the bar with a swagger not seen since John Wayne was alive. "Beam me up, Jerry." By that, he meant he wanted to order Jim Beam whiskey, like the stuff they used to serve him at Trout's back in the old days.
"You still drinking the hard stuff? Dr. BLT asked unapologetically. "That stuff's going to eat your liver faster than the ants in Hank's movie will eat all vestiges of the Bakersfield sound."
Dr. BLT got up off of his bar stool, headed to the New Rage Stage, as Jerry called it, grabbed his guitar and broke into a few bars of his new song, The Bottle's Gettin' Bigger.
"Is that song about me?" Walter asked, then he self-consciously cleared his throat. "No, but it might as well be," Dr. BLT said, then laughed heartily. "You know I'm kidding, Walt." Dr. BLT put down his guitar and returned to the bar. "I'm supposed to be opening up for Blue Mirror and the Throats tonight, but without Pat, I'm afraid I'll sound like a Buck Owens without the twang."
Serve him another Canadian beer, "Walter demanded! It's on me, doc." Walter was a generous old soul. "I brought my tamborine, just in case Pat isn't able to make it tonight." Walter paused as he lit up his old pipe. I know Pat left from Bakersfield early this morning, but I heard that he ran into some Derailers fans on the way over here, and they all stopped for a jam session on the side of the road. I think the whole bunch of them could be derailed somewhere between here and the ditch where they got lost in the jam.
Tommy Isbell entered the dark room, guitar and hand, his eyes desperately squinting as he tried to adjust to the darkness. "Where's Dr. BLT?" Tommy asked loudly. "Me and BLT were supposed to debut the song we recently recorded together, the Swingin' Doors/House of Bakersfield Medley."
"Relax, Tommy, come on over here, the beers on me!" Dr. BLT said slowly. "Jerry, serve this boy something cold and smooth," he added. "Sure, we can do that song, but Jerry here says we've got to limit our opening set to 5 songs."
"Oh, my God!" Dr. BLT yelled, "I'm supposed to call in as the regular guest on Bakersfield and Beyond tonight." My cell phone won't give me any bars in this bar, and there isn't a pay phone, or any phone for that matter, within a 90-mile radius. "Now who's the one needing to chill out?" Tommy replied, as he lightly mocked the doc.
"You don't understand," Dr. BLT replied, paying no heed to the mocking expression on Tommy's face. "Homer Joy is going to be interviewed on the show tonight... I was really looking forward to the interview---and, not only that, I haven't missed calling into the show ever before, not once, not twice---never! It has become a ritual, something that listeners have come to expect."
Jerry chimed in. "Not to worry, BLT, I'm sure Mike and Amanda will understand when you get back to Bakersfield and explain about Jerry's Trout's Pizza."
"Don't give me any of that false hope, Jerry. Look, I know you mean well, but everybody around here, including you, know that the old rumor that anybody who goes to Jerry's Trout's Pizza, never returns to Bakersfield is more than just a rumor."
Suddenly, Homer Joy appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. "It's not just a rumor, I'll attest to that," Homer hesitated as Dr. BLT's mouth dropped open in disbelief. "But I've got news for you. But I would have never made the pilgrimage out here if I didn't also know the secret to breaking the spell. All you need to do to free yourself from the spell, and make you're way back to Bakersfield, is to play the vinyl edition of Streets of Bakersfield backwards, and you have to do that three times."
"What the....? Where the hell did you come from, Homer?" Dr. BLT finally blurted out. "Relax, Bruce, Mike and Amanda know I'm here. They trust I'll be within dialing range by the time the show starts tonight. They've heard about my secret for breaking the spell,
and they are confident that the interview will go on, as planned. I've scheduled that famous Oildale limo to pick us up over here around 4 pm. We'll be back in town in plenty of time to call in when the show begins."
At that very moment, Gus, the limo chaffeur walked in the door at Jerry's Trout Pizza. He looked haggard (pun intended) and his voice was parched." The visibly haggared Gus staggered in, and proclaimed, "I'm outa gas!"
Jerry's Trout Pizza (the song)
Dr BLT
words and music by Dr BLT © 2009
Download | Duration: 00:02:19
Somewhere on an imaginary, winding, gravel road heading northwest, out of Bakersfield is a motley crew of disenfranchised travelers, ages 12-55, all heading towards a place called Jerry's Trout Pizza. It's a place that gets its name from 2 of the hottest spots in Bakersfield to rise up from the ruins since the Blackboard----Trout's Nightclub, a famous honky-tonk on Chester Avenue in Oildale, and from Jerry's Pizza, a place where famous post-punk acts got their start, or multiplied their fortunes while teen-ragers ate pizza as they prepared to literally butt heads on the slam dance floor. It's a punkountry pilgrimage that nobody forgets and nobody completely returns from. Dr. BLT and Hank Ray have already arrived. Jerry Rothberg, the owner and bartender fills up a couple of cold mugs with their favorite beer------Canadian Molson for Dr. BLT and a new beer, brewed by a bunch of Arkansas hillbillies called Anteater for Hank. "So, Jerry, what's going on tonight?" Hank asked eagerly, as he took his first sip of Anteater. "Killer brew, by the way," he added gleefully.
Well, Hank, my house band, Blue Mirror will team up with the Throats at about 10 to put out some spontaneous blues post-punk fusion like you never heard in your life, that's what goin' on. Jerry puffed out his chest proudly, but deep inside, he wasn't quite sure how his brand of blues would be received by the Throats. He had talked to Throat's frontman, Gopher earlier in the afternoon and he seemed to Jerry to be a bit closed minded to the bluesier side of the Bakersfield sound.
Walter Stormont walked in, looked around the joint, then approached the bar with a swagger not seen since John Wayne was alive. "Beam me up, Jerry." By that, he meant he wanted to order Jim Beam whiskey, like the stuff they used to serve him at Trout's back in the old days.
"You still drinking the hard stuff? Dr. BLT asked unapologetically. "That stuff's going to eat your liver faster than the ants in Hank's movie will eat all vestiges of the Bakersfield sound."
Dr. BLT got up off of his bar stool, headed to the New Rage Stage, as Jerry called it, grabbed his guitar and broke into a few bars of his new song, The Bottle's Gettin' Bigger.
"Is that song about me?" Walter asked, then he self-consciously cleared his throat. "No, but it might as well be," Dr. BLT said, then laughed heartily. "You know I'm kidding, Walt." Dr. BLT put down his guitar and returned to the bar. "I'm supposed to be opening up for Blue Mirror and the Throats tonight, but without Pat, I'm afraid I'll sound like a Buck Owens without the twang."
Serve him another Canadian beer, "Walter demanded! It's on me, doc." Walter was a generous old soul. "I brought my tamborine, just in case Pat isn't able to make it tonight." Walter paused as he lit up his old pipe. I know Pat left from Bakersfield early this morning, but I heard that he ran into some Derailers fans on the way over here, and they all stopped for a jam session on the side of the road. I think the whole bunch of them could be derailed somewhere between here and the ditch where they got lost in the jam.
Tommy Isbell entered the dark room, guitar and hand, his eyes desperately squinting as he tried to adjust to the darkness. "Where's Dr. BLT?" Tommy asked loudly. "Me and BLT were supposed to debut the song we recently recorded together, the Swingin' Doors/House of Bakersfield Medley."
"Relax, Tommy, come on over here, the beers on me!" Dr. BLT said slowly. "Jerry, serve this boy something cold and smooth," he added. "Sure, we can do that song, but Jerry here says we've got to limit our opening set to 5 songs."
"Oh, my God!" Dr. BLT yelled, "I'm supposed to call in as the regular guest on Bakersfield and Beyond tonight." My cell phone won't give me any bars in this bar, and there isn't a pay phone, or any phone for that matter, within a 90-mile radius. "Now who's the one needing to chill out?" Tommy replied, as he lightly mocked the doc.
"You don't understand," Dr. BLT replied, paying no heed to the mocking expression on Tommy's face. "Homer Joy is going to be interviewed on the show tonight... I was really looking forward to the interview---and, not only that, I haven't missed calling into the show ever before, not once, not twice---never! It has become a ritual, something that listeners have come to expect."
Jerry chimed in. "Not to worry, BLT, I'm sure Mike and Amanda will understand when you get back to Bakersfield and explain about Jerry's Trout's Pizza."
"Don't give me any of that false hope, Jerry. Look, I know you mean well, but everybody around here, including you, know that the old rumor that anybody who goes to Jerry's Trout's Pizza, never returns to Bakersfield is more than just a rumor."
Suddenly, Homer Joy appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. "It's not just a rumor, I'll attest to that," Homer hesitated as Dr. BLT's mouth dropped open in disbelief. "But I've got news for you. But I would have never made the pilgrimage out here if I didn't also know the secret to breaking the spell. All you need to do to free yourself from the spell, and make you're way back to Bakersfield, is to play the vinyl edition of Streets of Bakersfield backwards, and you have to do that three times."
"What the....? Where the hell did you come from, Homer?" Dr. BLT finally blurted out. "Relax, Bruce, Mike and Amanda know I'm here. They trust I'll be within dialing range by the time the show starts tonight. They've heard about my secret for breaking the spell,
and they are confident that the interview will go on, as planned. I've scheduled that famous Oildale limo to pick us up over here around 4 pm. We'll be back in town in plenty of time to call in when the show begins."
At that very moment, Gus, the limo chaffeur walked in the door at Jerry's Trout Pizza. He looked haggard (pun intended) and his voice was parched." The visibly haggared Gus staggered in, and proclaimed, "I'm outa gas!"
I'm not sure how to continue the story, but I have to thank you. I was getting the late night munchies (bad for the diet), but the mere visualization of a trout pizza (as in, a pizza with trout on it)killed my appetite more effectively than a bottle of Hoodia. I will fit into my jeans tomorrow thanks to you.
I don't know, but I think I'm seeing a good "Twilight Zone" kind of thing evolving with this story.
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Directly on Gus's heels stumbled in two dusty characters. BLT immediately recognized Mike and Amanda from their BLOG photos. "What the? Mike? Amanda? How did you two get here?" said a stunned BLT leaning back dumbstruck against the bar.
"We've been pushing Gus's darned limo for the past two miles." panted Amanda, wiping a dusty hand across her brow. Mike gazed lustily after the cold brews held by the bar patrons and Jerry, no slouch in the bartending department, immediately grabbed two icy mugs and topped them off, one with a strong IPA, the other with a light and refreshing Pilsner.
Amanda Eichstaedt
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I really love your addition to the story, Amanda!
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"Wait!" said Homer Joy to Amanda and Mike. "If you two are dehydrated from pushing a limo in the desert, the last thing you need is alcohol! Jerry, get them two bottles of Aqua Fina!"
Joy went on to say, "Doctor BLT, Tommy, you should both stop drinking, too! How do you expect to play your guitars backwards (three times) if you keep on downing beer, and eating fish on crust? We need you alive!"
Jerry Interrupted, "I haven't got any Aqua Fina, but I have either Perrier or Gatoraid! Which one do you want?"
They all puzzled over this through their beer-induced haze. It was then that the most feared punk-country gang for miles, the Stetson-Mohawks, burst into the bar.
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Jerry continued, "Fine! If you all can't decide, I'll choose for you. Get the French water. It's got more fizz than the soft drinks in most of the finest restaurants in Bakersfield. They just can't seem to get it right. The fast food places top them hands down! Anyway if I wasn't trying to make money by selling you fizzy water in a green bottle for 3 bucks, I'd recommend good ol' NOR water from the taps of Oildale. Been drinkin' it for over 25 years from the fountain next to the baseball field at Riverview Park...the real field of dreams. I almost parked a ball out of there once, but it hit the fence in center field. That 350 foot hit was the longest single I ever hit with my wood bat. I almost got thrown out at first, cause I was watchin' it fly!
Anyway, get ready to play Doc. You don't need anyone else. You were alone when I met you, and we all end up alone anyway."
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Gus yelled "there is any gas on the back of the shed?" the owner of the bar did not have any but he suck some gas from his truck and gave it to Gus. After all this work the car did not start, so they decided to walk to the nearest bus stop.
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Roy Rotten, the leader of the Stetson-Mohawks, approached the bar menacingly. "FRENCH WATER?" he shouted, sweeping the bowl of peanuts off the bar, "They need the GATORADE!"
The rest of the gang nodded in agreement. "It's all about replenishing the ELECTROLYTES!" Rotten roared. He shook his head and sighed. "Wow, am I the only feared country-punk gang leader that was paying attention in Physed?"
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