Erik Lacitis / Times Staff Columnist

Chasing rock 'n' roll dreams was well worth it

They mattered to Mike Herron of Seattle. He still remembers:

"In the '80s I worked at a Shell Station on Eastlake. One day, some guys with a lot of band equipment came in to gas up. It seems they were on their way to Portland to a gig. One of them asked me if I wanted to buy a record they had just made. He was understandably excited.

"I asked what kind of music, and he said, `It's rock.' I said I would buy if they would all sign it. He hollered, even more excitedly, to the others, `Hey, this guy wants to buy our record!' So out of the box comes the first record sale for the Cowboys' `How the West was Rocked.'

"I still have, and will always keep, my autographed copy of the record in which Ian Fisher (lead singer for the group) wrote, `First copy ever sold.' I never forgot how excited he was and how it put me over the edge to go buy a guitar and learn how to play. I now have two Fender Stratocasters and my second Ibanez acoustic. Perhaps you could relate this to Ian, and tell him I said thanks for his enthusiasm."

Over the past two weeks, a number of you have been contacting me, all basically answering the same question: Was it worth it?

All this was in response to a piece I wrote about what happened to the original members of a couple of popular Seattle rock bands in the early '80s, the Heats and the Cowboys. They had huge followings in this area, but never broke through nationally.

Eventually, they called it quits, and now the band members work in a variety of other jobs, from painting houses to production control at Boeing.

Was it worth it? If you're in the arts - an actor, painter, singer, musician - and always stay local, as is the case with most people in the arts, it's something you inevitably must ask yourself.

While you were chasing that dream, everybody else was getting a regular job, buying a house, working their way up that corporate ladder. Let's say your dream had been to play in that rock band, to get onstage and see your tunes come alive. If you're chasing that dream in 1998, you'd better get used to splitting maybe $400 a night among the entire band, plus your sound guy and roadie.

Was it worth it? Will anybody remember?

I've been talking to Jeff Trisler, 37, now married with two kids, working as a senior vice president in the Pacific Northwest for Universal Concerts, which books major acts.

He tells me about sneaking at age 18 into a West Seattle tavern to hear the Heats. Trisler tells me how he and a buddy went to every Heats show they could find, losing count at 80. He tells me about clubs packed with Heats fans, about the straight-ahead music, about the electricity you could feel on the dance floor. He was so taken by it all that Trisler offered to work for free for the band as their light man, eventually earning all of $150 a week as their road manager.

"No matter what I have done since or ever will do in the future, nothing will ever match the excitement and sense of great possibilities that existed at the time," he tells me.

I've been talking to Gloria Salmon, 40, of Aberdeen. Now she works as a nutritionist. Back then, she was a bank clerk, going with girlfriends to listen to the Heats.

"I danced the nights away with the Heats. As often as they came to our little town, I went," she tells me. "I keep the photos that I took. I still listen to the only Heats album I own. It's worn out, but who cares? I loved them."

I've been talking to Darcy Stetson, 40, of Juneau, who now handles the paperwork for commercial fishing loans. When she heard a story had been printed about the Cowboys, she managed to find of copy of this paper in Juneau. Her two sons have grown up listening to the group.

"I don't know how to say this without sounding like a lovesick groupie, but they were a very important part of my life. I saw them every chance I got, and some chances that I shouldn't have because I had a job that didn't always see me on time! I remember Ian and how he sparkled on stage. He should know his music had a profound effect on people."

Was it worth it? What's the price tag on memories like these?

That road to riches, well, it kind of depends on your definition of a rich man, doesn't it?

Erik Lacitis' phone number is 206-464-2237. His e-mail address is: elac-new@seatimes.com

Copyright © 1999 Seattle Times Company

Copyright © 2000 The Seattle Times Company