Staging a surprise gives a friend his youthful dream

This isn’t about me, darn it. My role as scribe is merely to record the moment when two friends’ fantasies converged in a Huntington Beach bar and grill as I sat there and wished it could have been me.

Those who can, do. Those who can’t, write about it.

One friend is longtime Omaha pal Steve Jordon, who came out for a four-day weekend visit in late July. The other, Rob Burns, is a more recent vintage California friend who’s a businessman by day but lead singer and guitarist by night for Catalina Eddy, a band he co-founded two years ago.

Burns had invited me to hear the band. When he gave me the date, I said I probably wouldn’t make it because that was the weekend Steve and another buddy would be visiting from Nebraska.

“Bring ‘em,” Burns said.

Come to think of it, I told him, Steve used to be a drummer. “Great,” Burns said, “he can sit in with us for a song or two.”

I’ve got a pretty big brain, and at that instant it started agitating. What a cool surprise, I figured, to get Jordon up on stage again. I had remembered that he was the drummer in the mid-’60s for the Megatones, a Lincoln-based band named as a play on word for “mega-ton,” since its four members were Air Force brats.

And that’s exactly how it came off. Two Saturdays ago, my Omaha buddies and I got to the bar sometime after 10 p.m. in the middle of the second set. I gave Burns the high sign and slipped his wife a short intro I’d written for Steve. Midway through the band’s third set, Burns addressed the crowd of about 50 people.

You’re in luck, he told them. In excellent deadpan fashion, he suggested they all probably remembered the Megatones from Lincoln, Neb. At our table 20 feet from the stage, Jordon shot me a “Huh?” look, and I played dumb. Burns went on to say that the Megatones drummer was in the house and that, with “a little encouragement,” he just might come up and play.

“Does he want me go to up?” Jordon asked.

“Yes,” I bleated. “Get up there!”

And for the next few minutes, even as a fistfight between two patrons exploded right in front of the bandstand, Jordon and Burns and the rest of Catalina Eddy rocked on to “Brown-Eyed Girl.”

In a way that caught me by surprise, it was one of the more enjoyable five minutes in recent memory. Fearful he’d embarrass himself, he did anything but. His drumming was loud, sharp and in sync with the band. Afterward, I think I was more wound up than he was.

Adding to the fun was that, earlier in the trip, Jordon had said a longtime fantasy was to be at a big-name rock concert when the band’s front man announced that the drummer had taken ill and then said the magic words: “Is there a drummer in the house?”

I got Jordon as close as he’s probably going to get, and it felt great.

I told Burns this week that he and Steve lived out a fantasy of mine. Is it as great up there on stage as it seems?

“It’s magical,” Burns said. “That’s the first thing that comes to mind. When you’re up there and playing music, you’re transported. You’re not 55 anymore, you’re 25. You saw me jumping up and down on the stage.”

Burns is a mere lad of 54; Jordon is 60, going on 40. Burns and Darwin Strong founded the band, and the July gig was only its second paying engagement.

“This is our passion,” Burns said. “Ever since I was 7 years old, this is all I wanted to do.” His mother was an actress and model, and Burns got the bug early. He had a modest showbiz career until the call of family life put him on hiatus for the last 20 years. The band started with five songs and now has a repertoire of 150.

Jordon’s days with the Megatones ended around 1966. He also raised a family and went to work as an Omaha newspaperman.

Surely you were nervous when Rob called you up? Not really, he said. “I sat down and there weren’t any sticks that I could see,” he said.

“That would kind of slow you down.” But he found them, gave the drums and cymbals a practice shot and was off and running.

He’s not prone to hyping himself, but he knows he lived a fantasy of mine. “You’re there in a bar, sitting and passively listening,” he said, “and all of a sudden you’re doing the thing.”

Burns told Jordon that the next time he’s in Orange County, he can sit in for a longer time.

No problem, Jordon said.

These boys understand my passion and the fantasy it induces. “I love what I do at work”-- making DVDs for environmental health and safety, Burns said. “But making music -- to tell you that time goes by so much faster is an understatement. We played 4 1/2 hours and I was still ready to keep going.”

Burns and Jordon, my heroes.

“Here I am, a middle-aged guy,” Burns said, “and still surfing and still in a rock band. Life is great.”

Dana Parsons’ column appears Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. He can be reached at (714) 966-7821 or at dana.parsons@latimes.com. An archive of his recent columns: www.latimes.com/parsons.