The Bar None Wranglers foursome of Robin Davis, Randall Labrum, Joe Lawrence and Dennis Madsen watch the last few people file in and take their seats. They smile, nod and wave at some of the patrons.
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“Sing along with us,” Randall says. “We are performing with you, not just for you.”
“Buckle up your seat belts, folks,” another band member drawls.
“Let’s hit it, boys!”
And they’re off. The crowd soon joins in with them — feet stomping, hands clapping, and swaying rhythmically to tried-and-true western standards like “Yellow Rose of Texas,” “Ghost Riders in the Sky” and “This Land is Your Land.”
You could close your eyes and almost imagine you were at Gilley’s Club or Gruene Hall or Tootsie’s Orchid Lounge — except the crowd is a little more polite and a lot less raucous than any of those well-known honky-tonks. This isn’t a roadhouse or hole-in-the-wall saloon. It is the second floor of the Abingdon Assisted Living Center in St. George, and there isn’t anyone in the crowd younger than 65 except for a couple of staff members.
Eventually, Randall rests his string guitar on his leg and heartily welcomes the patrons again. With a shy grin, another band member announces that it is almost Randall’s birthday.
“I’ll be 82 years old tomorrow,” Randall says. “Is there anyone here older than me?”
About half the hands go up.
“Well, you are certainly going to recognize the songs we play today then, so please sing along or we will tell the staff not to serve dinner to you,” he chuckles.
No one is worried. They are looking forward to singing along. You can see it in their faces.
For 60 minutes, the Bar None Wranglers play a variety of familiar tunes. None of their songs are classic oldies from the ’80s and ’90s. They are instead vintage tunes from the ’40s and ’50s — songs made famous by Woody Guthrie, Jimmie Rodgers and Sons of Utah Pioneers. The crowd knows them all and sings along with most of them.
Afterward, Brenda Bermann, one of the patrons, tells me how much it means to her that groups like the Bar None Wranglers perform for them.
“I don’t drive anymore,” she said. “Sometimes it’s a hassle to take the facility’s van anywhere. It’s especially nice that a band that looks like us and sings songs that we know comes here to perform for us.”
Take off the matching shirts that the Bar None Wranglers are wearing and you couldn’t pick them out of a lineup with the residents. They are a little more spry than some, but they have the same white hair, deliberate gait, age spots and wrinkles as everyone else in the room.
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Yet these men are livin’ their dream, doing what they most like to do, and performing more than 150 times a year at various local venues.
This local Utah band hails from a long tradition of Western swing and cowboy bands, from The Tune Wranglers of the 1930s to Wyoming’s beloved Bar J Wranglers.
“St. George has lots of assisted-living centers,” Joe told me. “We don’t get tired of playing at them, and so far, they haven’t gotten tired of us.”
“It is not the Grand Ole Opry,” Dennis said. “But we don’t need a big performance hall. We just want to play our music, have fun together and entertain any crowd that will have us.”
“I’ve been to Branson quite a few times,” Randall told me. “I never go to the big headliners there. I go to the guys who are hungry, who are there because they want to be there. It’s a whole different vibe with those guys. Like us, the lesser-known bands just want to perform and please a crowd.”
“When we play at local festivals or county fairs, it’s the same vibe as we get here,” Robin said. “The crowd is engaged — no one is on their phone, and people are singing along with us. It’s really energizing.”
“We play for ourselves as much as for those who come to see us,” Joe said. “I played all kinds of instruments when I was a teenager, but then I mostly put them away while I raised a family and went to work. After serving a mission with my wife, I picked up my instruments again. … I don’t think heaven could be much better than this.”
“All of us band members have had other careers and have been retired for years,” Dennis said. “Now, we play as much for ourselves as we do for those who come to hear us.”
“It’s even more than playing music,” Joe said. “This is not just what we do, this is who we are.”
“We aren’t fading away,” Randall chuckled. “We are coming into our own.”
“It is amazing to be able to do something you love with guys who you like being around and with crowds that are always appreciative,” a band member said while the others nodded in unison.
“Almost heaven — and we don’t even need to go to West Virginia,” Randall smiled, impishly.
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Almost heaven, indeed.