12 Step Program, part two, chapter forty-two
Whatever happened to Bob Jansen?
As the show date got closer, I started carrying a mortar board. Short of wearing a whistle around my neck, I could have been a recreation counsellor or tour guide.
I’d make notes to myself, check off what had to be done, jot down what still needed to be done.
Book Commodore Ballroom. Check.
Confirm Luke Michell, who will rehearse his band in Seattle. Check.
Get a setlist from Bob, send to Luke. Check.
Reserve a rehearsal room for Luke and Bob, a Monday and Tuesday. Check.
Have shirts and hats made for merchandise. Check.
Call Marty. Check.
Trust Marty to get a DVD crew. Check.
I wrote a press release and sent it by hand or email to media.
As Bob wanted, I kept it short and simple.
“Although he’s been living as Bob Johnson in Vancouver, B.C., Canada, since 1982, Bob Jansen has come out of hiding to give one last concert. His claim to fleeting fame is 12 Step Program that has become a barroom staple and cultural landmark.”
That’s it. The release mentions the Commodore and the date. Doesn’t say why he went into “hiding” or why he came out. Presumably, you can ask him.
The local media would be there, Rolling Stone figured to be at the Commodore. The CCN network might send someone. The CBC would cover it and slot it into one of its shows, likely Q. It wanted music, so I instructed the CBC rep to call Marty.
Marty was incredulous when I told him Bob was found and would give a concert, assuming Marty would record it.
“Sure I will, but how, where, why?”
“Long story. Tell you when you get up here to Vancouver.”
“On my way….”
“One more question. We’re going to make a DVD as well. Know of a director and camera crew?”
“Not directly. I’ll ask people around here. They’re bound to know someone. Vancouver does so much TV and film production. Finding camera men and a director shouldn’t be a problem.”
The t-shirts and hats were as sketchy as Bob’s press release. The front of the shirt, black, simply said, I Took The 12 Step Program. On the back was Bob’s name and the date of the Commodore show. All the hats, black, said was 12 Step Program.
The Commodore had its own sound system, lights, and in house sound man. I was also happy to tell Bob that not only did the ballroom have showers but the shower floor was heated.
Most of the few rehearsal halls were full. The one I did land smelled of stale beer, sweat and probably piss. I can’t say for sure, but it was musty.
Indifferent as the staff was, everything we needed as there and worked. And oddly, the closeness and musty oder was an incentive. Do what you came to do and get out. Consequently, Luke and Bob kept their reunion short and got down to business.
On the Wednesday, they moved everything to the Commodore for a last rehearsal and sound check. This made Marty happy as he could set levels for recording. The DVD crew could take notes, figure out camera angles.
Barb unexpectedly was cool to be getting a live album and a DVD.
“Don’t worry,” I told Abe Jr. and Bob, “All you have to do is stamp Barb on it. The new owner will distribute and promote it.”
The guest list necessarily was flexible but shorter than expected. I thought it would be a nightmare to assemble and too long. The local media were down, of course, and confirmed international media also were on the list. Luke wanted his wife to come up from Seattle. Al Berk said he would be there, Amanda Flynn couldn’t be reached, Tonio Valdez hemmed and hawed, saying he wanted to be there but he couldn’t be sure, so put his name down, Abe Jr. and Bob Stern took a pass. Terry and Peter were dead. Michael and Greg left the band long before Bob Jansen ended The Hi-Steppers. This wouldn’t be a reunion.
The one surprise was that Eric Matthews wanted to attend. He’d relocated to Victoria where he wrote and designed video games.
Bob’s post 1982 friends knew him as Bob Johnson and had little or no interest in Bob Jansen. Sad, I thought, but it says a lot about how Bob has conducted his second life.
I figured we were ready.
