Country And Northwestern -- You Don't Have To Be From The South To Love Country; South County Is Fine
If you're gonna leave your mark,
you can't follow like a bunch of sheep.
You got to listen to your heart,
go bustin' in like old John Wayne,
sometimes you gotta go against the grain.
"Against the Grain"
Garth Brooks
Country-rock electrifies a smoky room. A hundred heads, most covered with cowboy hats, bob and turn sharply in unison on a big, wooden, rectangular dance floor. Boot-covered feet powered by jean-covered legs stomp, step and shuffle in time.
Jimmy Starr, a tall, lean man, tips his hat, strokes his scraggly mustache, then penetrates his listeners with serious eyes.
"A lot of people think the cowboy is dead," he says. "It's not true. You have to look hard, but once in a while, you'll see a real one. He's alive."
A discussion ensues about what exactly a real cowboy is. Someone suggests that a real cowboy earns his living at it.
By that standard, Starr, who breaks horses in Cody, Wyo., during summers and makes leather goods here winters, is a cowboy. Most of the others at the Riverside Inn on this night are not. Call them, instead, suburban cowboys - and suburban cowgirls.
Whatever they are, their numbers appear to be growing. Interest in country western, from records and radio to clothing, is strong across the nation, still possibly benefiting from a push by last year's Desert Storm operation. Western dance appears to be going through its most popular phase since the early 1980s, and C&W nightlife, always particularly strong in South King County, is as big as ever.
Lord I've seen too many smoke-filled bars.
Seems like they're never gonna set me free.
You might not see the scars,
but this nightlife's beatin' the daylights out of me.
"This Nightlife,"
Clint Black
Prairie Fire is a shot of tequila with a healthy dose of Tabasco sauce dumped in for good measure. It makes your mouth smolder for about 10 minutes.
"And gives you breath like smelly socks," says John Jenkins, a Fort Worth, Texas, native who's been a regular at the Riverside Inn going on a couple of years.
If you drink Prairie Fire, don't plan on asking a lady to dance anytime soon after, says Jenkins. And if you aren't wearing boots, don't bother anyway.
"First thing a woman's going to do is look down at your feet. She'll know straight off if you can dance."
Almost everyone at the Riverside wears boots, and almost everyone at the Riverside can dance. The variety of steps is endless. Some of the most popular are the two-step, the 10-step, swing, cowboy cha-cha, waltz and the tush-push, which involves a series of hops, turns and a bit of gyrating, a la John Travolta in "Urban Cowboy."
The dance floor, about a quarter the size of a basketball court, is always packed. During some songs, couples step and waltz in a circle along the perimeter while others swing in the middle. During songs that call for the tush-push, dancers fill the floor in rows, moving, save for a few offbeat beginners, in unison.
"There's a lot more to it than meets the eyes," says Jenkins, "and it's people like us who are keeping the traditions alive."
Jenkins was raised on a ranch run by his father who wrote two books on the more than 5,000 varieties of barbed wire ("It was barbed wire that tamed the West," says Jenkins).
But Jenkins works for US West as a pole climber. He's not a real cowboy.
"Just about all of us are urban cowboys, really," he says. "Not many make their living at it."
Starr looks suspiciously about the room, which is packed as usual on a weekend night with more than 500 people of a wide age range. Many know each other. The mood is festive, bordering on raucous. Most of the women are in Wrangler jeans, sweaters and button-down shirts. A few wear skirts and fringed dresses, some hats. The men wear jeans, heavy canvas brushpopper shirts, some bright colored, and hats.
"Looks like a bunch of people from Bellevue," says Starr. "Half of them have probably never seen a horse."
I need friends who don't pay their bills on home computers,
and who buy their coffee beans already ground
"Better Class of Losers,"
Randy Travis
Many C&W nightclub regulars are rock 'n' roll refugees, tired of what they call bad attitudes and worse manners at clubs where money and clothes take top priority. In C&W nightspots, they've found friends and a common enjoyment of partner dancing.
Stephen Ramos, a 23-year-old welding inspector from Auburn, used to teach break-dancing. But he traded Hammer for Vince Gill and Garth Brooks more than a year ago.
"What I like about it is that you're dancing with your partner," he said. "At a rock 'n' roll place, if your partner turns around, she's dancing with everyone else in that room."
LOTS OF C&W OUT THERE
The Riverside Inn isn't the only spot in South King County to dance. Another local favorite is the Beanery in Kent. Older crowds gather at the Eagles and American Legion halls in Kent and Auburn, and the Promenade Dance Center and Shoppe in Burien, which is used regularly by more than 15 dance groups for parties and practice.
Venturing farther out, there's the Branding Iron and Outpost in Tacoma, Iron Gate in Spanaway, Baldy's Tavern in Milton, Cimarron in Gig Harbor and the Rainier Sportsman Club near Yelm.
Like the Riverside, the Beanery has live music and a large dance floor. But the crowd is a little older and decidedly different, which suits Suzylynn Wolf, who owns the club along with her husband, John.
"They say if you want to pick up a girl, go to the Riverside," she said. "They don't say that about the Beanery. I like that."
The true measure of a C&W dance spot is its dance floor. Lots of space is needed, especially for the swingers and experienced who step for complex dances.
A floor the size of a basketball court does fine, which is what the Auburn Eagles have.
"If we could all have a dance floor like that, we'd all be in hog heaven," said Donald Swanson.
Swanson, a dentist in Tacoma, said he started going to western dance clubs years ago while he was going through a divorce. Dancing with lots of movement and the good folks he meets are what keep him coming back.
"I've met a lot of great people," he said. "The people at these bars are a heck of a lot more sincere than people at the rock places."
Swanson is evidence of C&W's wide appeal. Others showing up recently at some C&W spots were a Seattle private detective, a Seattle industrial engineer and a Burien airline clerk.
Sometimes romance strikes. Larry Corbett, a farrier from Puyallup, met Jennifer more than 10 years ago at a C&W nightclub. They've been married seven years. Jennifer heads the Mad Dancers Country Western Dance Team, which both have been a part of for more than 10 years.
The 10-member group practices at the Riverside early evenings during the week and hangs out later when the band starts. On a recent night, they socialized and sipped water, tea and coffee.
"Country dancers don't drink much," said Jennifer. "They have to know what they're doing."
"I want a job, a piece of land,
three squares in my fryin' pan,
don't seem so hard for me to understand
. . . I'm a simple man
"I'm a Simple Man,"
Ricky Van Shelton
For traditional shows with family atmospheres, there's the Auburn Ave. Theater and Opry House and the Aqua Barn on the Maple Valley Highway near Renton.
For the past year, the Auburn theater has been staging Grand Ole Opry-style variety shows featuring local country talent at least once a month. The dinner-theater house has consistently sold out its 299 seats, said owner Deanna Robinson, who moved to this area 15 years ago from Nashville, where she produced and promoted country shows and acts.
TALENT COVERS SPECTRUM
The talent runs the gamut. Some people perform for fun. Others are pursuing careers; others are professionals. The featured regulars are Jon Parry, who plays fiddle on Hank Williams Jr.'s new "Maverick" album, and his wife Tammy, a singer.
"There's a unique style of country music in this area," says Robinson. "I was hearing it for a long time before coming here, and as soon as I got here, I said, `That's it.' "
Robinson envisions the sound, which is influenced by blues and, to a lesser extent, jazz, putting the Northwest on the country map.
"I think as soon as we can get it out there, people are going to flock up here and copy the sound," she said. "It's a blending that blows me away."
The Aqua Barn, on the grounds of Grandma Riley's Restaurant, is more traditional. Tuesday nights are for "Almost Opry Open Jam Sessions." Thursdays are The Hoedowners. Small crowds, a casual atmosphere featuring old-time fiddlers doing old-time stuff.
"It's a little different than a lot of places," said co-owner Laverne Riley. "But it's nice. It just shows you there are all types of different country places."
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-- Free country-dance lessons are available Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays from 7:30 to 8:30 p.m. at the Riverside Inn in Tukwila. Members of the Mad Dancers are the instructors. Call 244-5400 for information.
Lessons also are available at the Beanery in Kent on Thursdays from 7 to 9 p.m. for $3. Members of the Black Hills Shufflers are the instructors. Call 872-8575 for information.