(In this installment, Wallflower Dave Rinck revisits the bouncy side of the ’70s.)
We used to have a great Halloween tradition in San Diego, which I am frankly surprised hasn’t been covered here yet. Anyway, I’m sure someone will get around to this one soon enough. Of course I’m talking about the Pink Panther Halloween Ball. Man, that was fun!
The deal is, one year I was attending this event, and I ran into Darren Grealish and Burt Huerta, and these guys had on these leisure suits with lapels out to their shoulders. (I think I was dressed as a gerbil or something equally stupid.) I mean, they looked great, almost as if they had just stepped out of Studio 54 in about 1978. And Darren says to me, “People think I’m dressed up for Halloween, but this is how I like to dress every day!”
And who wouldn’t? I mean, come on get real: Black leather biker jackets and torn jeans every day? How much of that stuff can you really stand before you need to cut your jive talkin’ and lighten up a bit? Yes, if punk rock can be summed up as the Mister Hyde of our angry rebellious youth, then Disco would be the happy Doctor Jekyll.
