Keith M. T his is not music for the faint hearted. T his is not music for the weak. P repare to monkey. Rich's rusted Pontiac has chugged and sputtered its way to the exit ramp and unceremoniously died on the spot.
W e are on our way to a show in Cleveland when the car shits the bed.
Dick Dale's Winnebago pulls into the rest stop. One of Dick's roadies sees a concert t-shirt and invites us into the RV for an audience with the King of Surf Guitar. Dick gives us t-shirts, autographed pictures, and complains about the quality of the guacamole in his taco salad. Rich decides to abandon his car in Indiana, rent another one, and make the Cleveland show. On the way to the show, it is decided that a surf band is needed.