After almost sixty years as a published journalist, one should know the basics. This writer just returned from blowing a principle or two. When reporting, one is supposed to be totally objective and unbiased. A person should also be true to long-held fundamental and instinctive tenets.
Sorry, readers, but I've just failed at both.
Just off the main drag in St. Catharines, Coco Bar & Mexican Grill is an intimate and obviously popular 'gin joint'. Today, Marty Hopkins' Honky Tonk Heroes were on stage before an enthusiastic mature audience. The quintet is composed of the eponymous leader on vocals, with Steve Goldberger on bass, Sandra Marynissen on her mandolin “axe” plus four bongos, percussionist Jay Peters and guitarist Mike Glatt, stepping in for usual guitarist Dave Tufford.
From the get-go, I was hooked and engaging in repartee with the band members. Totally involved with some give-and-take between performers and audience, I forgot principle No. 2 above.
Back in the early days of WWII (circa 1940), there was a measles epidemic and us kids learned to recognize the word "CONTAGIOUS". At least by colour, if one was not yet literate. The Hopkins quintet's style and performance defines that "C" word. Every request for vocal response was enthusiastically returned.
From the opening Springsteen number to my departing dance — Jimmy Buffett's 'Margaritaville', with all those tattoos, cocktails and missing saltshakers — the afternoon was a super treat. Notice, I wrote 'dance'! Yep, this ninety-year-old fart was terpsichoring, albeit holding my partner somewhat closer than normal — for balance!
Back to the 'Heroes'. We were treated to some Buck Owens and Tennessee Ernie Ford ("Sixteen Tons") and such oldies as Perkins' (and Presley's cover) 'Blue Suede Shoes'. HTH's version of 'Stand by Me' had even more emotion than the original Ben E. King take.
This three-year-old team formed from other groups just after COVID stopped stopping everything. Sitting in proximity to the stage, I couldn't help but observe the telepathy between Hopkins and Goldberger, something shared with my Terry, and truly thought it might be unique with us. About half their repertoire is original, and I was particularly taken with a rather humourous work about living in a border town (us) and our affinity for those folks across the river. There was even a hat tip to 'The Bills' and their fans.
One work had some lyrics that resounded especially with me. Dwight Yoakam's line about "bruises on my memory" touched cranial spots where names are somewhat hazy, or years are forgotten. Given the ages of my new table-mates and yours truly, mayhaps (sic) a little too close to home for comfort!
Speaking of the group whose table I shared, they met at Niagara Falls' "Maple Leaf Bar" and now are something of a clique. Their spirit, vitality and 'joie de vivre' are also well within that above caveat "C", and I admit to giving them my home phone number.
Coco is something special. Under manager Danielle, the place ought to be packed to the gills. Don't tell anybody about it, so that the atmosphere and ambiance won't change... it's perfect the way it is.
When you DO decide to drop in, look for a picture behind the bar of Danny y los amigos — los lobos, the old wolves... Hola!