Where Rockabilly Rules1950s culture of pompadours, short-short bangs and hot cars is alive and well in Sonoma County
August 10, 2003 By RAYNE WOLFE THE PRESS DEMOCRAT
The stifling heat wilted the guys' T-shirts and girls' hair-dos, but that didn't discourage Tanya Hixenbaugh in a 1950s-style lemon yellow sun suit and Sonny Anderson in rolled-up jeans from tearing up the dance floor.
The local high-octane rockabilly band "Hopped Up" wailed in the dining room at Penngrove's Twin Oaks tavern. Dancers were swinging, gyrating, and spinning, grinning from ear to ear at the sheer fun of plunging full tilt to the thumping beat on a hot, hot Sunday a few weeks back at the very first barbecue and hoedown hosted by the Lucky Bastards car club.
"I may faint. Shoot, I don't think we can keep that up too long," Hixenbaugh said as she headed outside for a breath of fresh air.
From the frenetic dancing inside the tavern, to the casual gawking at the cars in the parking lot, the scene was a counter-culture statement, a flash backward to a way of life steeped in the nostalgia of the 1950s.
Rockabilly is hard-core in Sonoma County. It means rejecting contemporary music like hip-hop and surrendering to the magnetic pull of beats laid down by Brian Setzer, Link Wray or Elvis. And it means choosing second-hand vintage style over fashion trends that emphasize designer labels.
Rockabilly devotees may look like time travelers sketched by pin-up master Alberto Vargas -- if he inked on more clothes -- but their devotion is more than skin-deep.
They take swing-dance lessons at Monroe Hall, buy tickets to hear rockabilly bands across Sonoma and Marin counties, host car shows, shop at vintage stores, and wouldn't consider toning it down -- even at work.
"We live in a place where fitting in is not such a big priority. There's room here to be yourself. For my rockabilly customers, that means turning their backs on The Gap and Target and mass marketing and corporate co-opting," said Marta Koehne, who with her husband John, has operated Hot Couture in Railroad Square for over 20 years.
Slicked-back hair
Rockabilly guys who sport slick pompadours and Elvis sideburns are our mechanics, carpenters, fellas we pay to do practical things. They drive 1950s-era cars, often painted satin black with hand-painted yellow and orange flames.
The girls, the "Betties," work as hair-dressers, bookkeepers, secretaries and travel agents. They're named, some say, for their resemblance to pin-up girl idol Betty Page, whose trademark short-short bangs curtain their foreheads high above the brows.
Hixenbaugh, the jitterbugger, is a nursing student at Santa Rosa Junior College and works part-time in an insurance office. Anderson is a forklift operator.
Had James Dean himself at the height of his 1950s "Rebel Without a Cause" perfection opened the tavern door at the Twin Oaks to survey the scene that Sunday, heads would not have turned. He would have fit right in with the familiar 1950s American icons; the beer in brown bottles, paper plates filled with barbecue, girls adjusting bobby pins in elaborate do's, even the guys passing for his double.
Yet there are anachronisms in the rockabilly crowd's tastes, little things that give them away as 21st-century dwellers. Sure, they love '50s music and clothes, classic cars, retro streamlined furniture, Trader Vic's bamboo, tiki and coconut-motif bar and kitchen items. But they are also passionate about eBay, cell phones and car- and dance-club Web sites.
For Asia Tuchsen, a bookkeeper and poster girl for good posture who lives in Marin County, the commitment includes ice-blonde hair styled so perfectly it would make Lana Turner look like a housefrau. Her exquisite face makeup complements a perfectly authentic vintage ensemble for the Penngrove party. This day she dons a crisp red and white cotton dress with a snap-clasp clutch and matching espadrilles. Her chosen lifestyle has admittedly turned her into an eBay junkie, always on the prowl for June Cleaver classics.
"This is just the way I am now. This is how my co-workers know me. I come to Sonoma County so much because it's a nicer scene. It's welcoming. In Marin County, people stare at you. Here, I can relax," she said.
Rockabilly shows
Many of the Sonoma County rockabilly folks meet at shows featuring their kind of music. Venues like the Mystic in Petaluma and Rancho Nicasio in west Marin County often host rockabilly shows. The Paladins, road legends who are said to have put over 650,000 miles on their band van, have played numerous Sonoma County venues attracting rockabilly crowds. They were at the Twin Oaks to do a set with Hopped Up.
One couple at the recent car show and dance, Scotty and Jake Bruemmer, epitomize dedicated rockabilly living. He's a custom hot-rod specialist in Santa Rosa, vintage car-club member and swing dancer.
She's an office staffer by day and singer with the band "Hopped Up" on nights and weekends. "Hopped Up" has garnered a local following for its particular brand of hit-the-gas rockabilly music that incorporates stylings of lesser-known performing legends like Janis Martin, Wanda Jackson and Jean Shepherd.
"They do retro without making a mockery. It's not parody or vaudeville, they do it seriously. They're giving people the real thing," said Santa Rosa letter carrier Charles Adams, known on his rounds as Charlie the mailman.
Indeed, part of the magic of the music is the fundamental recognition of rock 'n' roll's roots. For Bruemmer, who has sung in punk, swing and rockabilly bands for nearly 20 years, there's no going back.
"I've been singing vintage music so long now that when I find myself in a fix, my first thought is, 'What would Patsy Cline do?' " Bruemmer joked.
"Lately, it feels like rockabilly is everywhere around here. But I've lived in places, like Laramie, Wyo., where people really have a hard time with the whole vintage clothing look. They scowl and stare," Bruemmer said.
For Sonoma County vintage clothing store owners, rockabilly customers heading through the door are a welcome sight.
"The funny thing about rockabilly shoppers is that they are usually hard-working people doing real jobs. They are the next home-owning middle class," said Marta Koehne.
"And I think the appeal of rockabilly in large part can be credited to the celebration of the differences of the sexes. The guys are manly and the girls are womanly. Is that so bad?"
To hear Marta tell it, rockabilly in Sonoma County is flourishing in part because of the social tolerance and openness here.
Koehne, like her friendly competitors, Denise Morden, owner of Unforgettable in downtown Petaluma, and Kelly Coahran, owner of Bella Due Volte on Fourth Street in Santa Rosa, has watched many a dressing-room metamorphosis from Gap kid to rockabilly royalty.
"So many of these girls and guys have grown up wearing Gap T-shirts and jeans. The clothes are baggy and hang down from the shoulders, creating a visual column that camouflages curves and muscles," said Koehne.
"They look at themselves sideways in the mirror and you can just read their minds. They never thought they could possibly look like that. Then before you know it, they're buying five outfits for that annual Viva Las Vegas gathering, where they really show off their style."
Support businesses
Followers of the rockabilly lifestyle in Sonoma County play an important role in supporting numerous small businesses, including vintage clothing, beauty supply and record stores as well as shops like Heebe Jeebe General Store in Petaluma where retro remakes, like barware, are stocked. In fact, rockabilly men have developed a reputation for being keen shoppers.
"Yeah, we shop a lot. More than most guys, I guess. We need our different outfits. But really, we spend most of our time turning wrenches, working on our cars," said Jimmy Tillett, a Sonoma magnet company employee by day, car club member of The Lancers in his free time.
Tillett, whose dad was a member of the Long Beach Rebels in the 1960s, finds the rockabilly lifestyle straightforward, full of people he understands. A man with a warm smile and soft voice, his personality overrides the daunting first impression made by his numerous tattoos, including one of James Dean on his left shoulder.
"I've been like this for nearly 10 years and I just find I have a lot in common with people I meet at these things," he said as he walked along the rows of vintage cars parked in several long lines at the Twin Oaks, where plenty of Betties donned itty-bitty vintage sun suits or dresses with swing skirts. Most of the guys wore hard jeans with big turned-up cuffs and white, sleeveless T-shirts.
The four members of the Lucky Bastards -- Jake Bruemmer, Dave Bautista, Neil Espenship and Jeff Aires -- showed exceptional flair that day, with their trademark horseshoes dangling from the back bumpers of their '50 Pontiac, '53 Lincoln Cosmopolitan, and '56 Buick Super, respectively. Too bad Aires' '52 Ford pickup was MIA. Next show.
By early evening, 65 cars had been admired by more than 160 fans, all the tri-tip was gone and the startled bartenders, who had expected a little barbecue, had been sufficiently run ragged and generously tipped to ensure a repeat booking next summer.
Bet your pink slip on it, Daddy-O.
You can reach Staff Writer Rayne Wolfe at 521-5240 or rwolfe@pressdemocrat.com
