Let me start off by saying I am grateful for all the attention my bar has gotten from the Rupert Holmes 1979 hit "Escape (The Pina Colada Song)." For years before that song was released, my location on Main Street was good, but the flow of traffic was somehow all going to Donovan's down the street closer to the beach. But since that song hit the charts (and eventually became the 11th best selling single of 1980 on the Billboard Hot 100, I hear), business couldn't be better.
But for all of that, I'm afraid I do have to take issue with the role my bar has played in that travesty of a yacht-rock song. First of all, I'm a devout Catholic (surprise, being an O'Malley, eh?), and any depiction of infidelity– even if it's just lyrical– just rubs me the wrong way. Yes, I know that the singer and his "lady" were never depicted as married per se, but still.
I guess the second issue I have with it is more personal. See, I'm had a rock 'n roll childhood. Grew up on Black Sabbath and Zeppelin. Still listen to them. And I try to run a nice, down to earth pub with decent fixtures and a jukebox with some decent rock on it. So this association my bar has with this admittedly catchy but seriously LIMP-DICKED MUZAK SONG doesn't sit well with me at all. Gave me ulcers in the 80s, in fact.
Look man, I'm just (literally) minding my business, tending bar and cleaning up, and this long haired guy with white slacks, Hawaiian shirt opened down to his belly, and mirror shades sits down and orders a pina colada. Yeah, at an Irish bar.
So while I'm standing there figuring how to either concoct one of those blender drinks or punch the guy in the throat, this woman with feathered hair, flared polyester pants and the biggest sun hat I've ever seen sits down next to the bloke.
They instantly recognize each other and start laughing about something or other. Then the guy hails me and orders TWO piña coladas now. I'm about to throw the two of those hippies out, but it suddenly starts raining outside. Customers at the outside tables come rushing in, but those two forget about the drinks they ordered and run out into the rain towards the beach. Morons.