The other day I wrote the post “Memory Lane is Nowhere Road,” a random ramble about places I used to live and people I used to know. When I was 18, I met the San Antonio-based band Heyoka and followed them closely (if not always literally) for several years, whenever I was in the area. I guess since it was so long ago (almost thirty years, and it makes me wince to realize it), it never occurred to me to look up the band online. There certainly wasn’t any reason to suspect they were still together or doing any shows, and in fact I never even considered that they could have been iconic to anyone but me in my starstruck youth.
Imagine, therefore, my surprise when a friend of mine posted a link to the San Antonio Rock.com website, which did indeed have information on Heyoka, including shows within the last four or five years and photos from one of those shows – photos showing people I barely recognized but was still delighted to see. (Trust me, they wouldn’t recognize me, either.)
Tonight, I was playing Winamp, which I do all too rarely, and Head East’s “Never Been Any Reason” came on – a longtime favorite of mine that took me back to one of the last times I saw Heyoka play. I was backstage with my friend Lisa, talking to guitarist David Alcocer. I’d met David in 1979, at the first show I saw at the Dome Shadows, and had fallen into utter and complete infatuation. He was ten years older than I was (in fact, I still remember his birthdate; how weird is that?), very patient and cordial but slightly paranoid of my eager puppy dog manner. Through the years, he grew more tolerant as I grew less fixated, until we finally reached an interesting if unsteady comfort zone. I distinctly remember him and me exchanging glances several times that last show, not in any suggestive way but in response to some new and excitable girls gleefully planning to follow the band to the next town. It was intriguing to me at the time, because I was accustomed to David avoiding me more often than not, and something interesting was passing between us that I was never able to quantify due to moving out of state (again); the feeling I had was that we were repeatedly having the same thoughts in reaction to the girls, and we’d look at each other, pass the thought, and move on. And at that last show, while Lisa and I were backstage, David was talking about Head East and how they were such assholes. I still love the song, though.
Hearing the song tonight and remembering that last show, I googled David’s name and the suffix he used, along with “San Antonio.” I found a guestbook entry he made very recently – this month, in fact. I sent him an email, to say hello and reminisce a little, and to ask about a roadie the SA Rock site had described as “tragically killed.” One of their roadies was once a good friend to me, and when I’d moved away he was working for them, but when I returned, he was gone. And I never knew why. I asked David if Karl (the roadie) was the one who was killed, and if so if he’d share information.
I have no idea how he’ll react to the email. I’ve no doubt whatsoever that he’ll remember me. And with almost thirty years gone, he might feel safe enough to reply without worrying I’ll pounce on him like I might’ve when I was 20. In any event, I’ve enjoyed the nostalgic look at my youthful exuberance, and I wish them all the best. I’ll let you know how it turns out. He might find this site and decide I’m completely off my nut.