The End of an Era . . .

Our favorite dive bar in Sea Isle, the Springfield, is no longer-- it's now an outdoor tiki bar-- and so our favorite cover band-- LeCompt-- now plays at The Oar House; we went over there Sunday night and while Catherine and I escaped the ten dollar cover charge because we arrived early-- we did not escape the crowds and the insanity; the place with jammed with very young people and the girls were all wearing halter-tops and no bra-- that is the look, whether your boobs support themselves or not-- and while it cleared out a bit between bands and a few older people wandered in, it was mainly a mass of young people; Cat and I snagged a spot at the bar, with my brother and Amy, but most of the cousins beat a hasty retreat when they saw the scene-- we could barely see the band from the bar-- we never realized what a great set-up the Springfield had (the band played inside the horseshoe shaped bar, elevated-- so everyone could see and it was in the round) and while Catherine did mosh her way to the front once, she said it was very gross and sweaty and she touched a lot of braless boobs (which of of wildly varying quality) and there were no dive bar drink specials-- a Bud Light was six bucks instead of two-- and for the first set, LeCompt just played the hits-- when we talked to him outside, after he overshared about his narcotic and alcohol recovery he told us he'd be playing the good stuff on Monday, outside, but that he had to play songs "for the kids" at this kind of show-- so that's it for the Springfield and the weird LeCompt shows where he would play all songs about rain (because it was raining) or all Who songs or just take requests written on napkins-- and while they sounded fine, it was more like hearing a good band in the distance-- we all decided we would not be back to see him there . . . but we'll find some other venue where the band can screw around more, but, sad to say, there was nothing like the Springfield and there may not be anything like it ever again.