Growing up in the ’60s, according to Donna, “was all very political. It was all unisex. It was not okay to wear nail polish. We dressed like we could go out in the field and track wild animals. There were about six to eight years where I didn’t wear a skirt. I didn’t own a skirt. But now it’s fun to be in an over-the-top costume and push the envelope.”
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“It’s all about the fun of getting up in front of people and helping them have a good time,” says Terri. “We’re all around 50. We can flirt. It’s harmless. We can do whatever we want. It’s so different from what I do from 8 to 5. It’s a nice release.” And their husbands, easily their biggest fans, simply adore them.
“I used to be homely and not beautiful. But now that I am, it’s nice to work it,” Donna quips. “After being established in my career and settling into my professional talents, being able to sing in a group is an unexpected bonus.”
I ask Terri if she ever dresses up at the office, a student health clinic at Washington State University, eight miles away. She does, and has even been known to wear a tiara for pap smears on occasion. “Queen of the Pap, they call her,” replies one of the Flashes.
I want to know what music they listen to and what CD they’d be likely to purchase for a friend’s birthday. Products of their generation, the Hot Flashes remember how everyone dreamed of being a backup singer for Aretha. Laurie tells me they listen to “girl groups,” the same music they sing. Terri says that Lois and Laurie, both with older sisters, know the words to ALL the songs. I can tell she’s impressed and envious.
Lois grew up listening to Motown. Terri was more R & B. Donna loved hard rock — Led Zeppelin — claiming, “It was all about the guys. In the ’80s, that changed. You got women playing lead guitar in a band. Now, it’s all about us!”
Donna remembers being in the audience at a production of “Beehive” and melting into tears when the actress captured the audience with her rendition of “R-E-S-P-E-C-T.” But for that one special CD, she would probably search for something like Houndog Taylor and the House Rockers. Someone else mentions The Rolling Stones’ “History of Women in Rock.” Laurie loves anything by Joni Mitchell. Lois claims they listen to the Pachelbel Canon before they go on stage, but I have a sneaking suspicion she is trying to see how gullible I am.
Remember when it was a big deal about not calling women “girls?” Many of us demanded to be called women. But just as there is always part of a boy in a man, allowing your inner girl to come through can be a blast. “I enjoy being a girl …” resonates through the room as the harmonious foursome enjoys a bit of what they do best.
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“The women’s movement is about options; we can be girls or we can be women,” says Donna.
One of the modifications the Hot Flashes make in their singing that differs from the girl bands of the ’50s is the lyrics, which they describe as “oppressed and downtrodden.” Today, the Hot Flashes take some of the lyrics, change them and empower them. Or they sing the words so that people can see the humor in them. They mention singing, “I love him, I love him, I love him,” while moving like robots, but they weren’t sure the audience actually got the message. (I would have — remember the Stepford Wives?)
They all claim that Laurie channels lyrics. “She had a dream one night about hot flashes or had a hot flash about dreams, one of the two,” says one. At one performance, Laurie channeled new lyrics during a song. While singing “I want to be Bobby’s girl,” it came out “I want to be Buddha’s girl …” Pure inspiration. The words have stayed ever since. They’re convinced Laurie’s a muse.
Terri, much the sophisticated woman today, lived in the woods for 13 years, in the Okanogan area of north central Washington. Using a gravity-water feed system, solar power and creativity, it was a much simpler time. So simple, in fact, that Terri once walked 25 miles to town to go dancing.
Lucky for Terri, she has a husband who knows how to kick up his heels on the dance floor. “She married a man who can do the splits and actually get up and walk again,” according to her friends.
When I ask Terri why they ever left the woods, she smiles and laughs, “Our kids needed social skills.”
What does being a Hot Flash mean to each of these women? Terri says seriously, “We have grown as women doing this, and as friends.”
According to Donna, “Going back and revisiting this music informs me how my thinking has changed over those years.”
Lois is writing a book about it, so we’ll get to find out more from her as soon as it’s published.
Laurie is busy musing.
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So what’s going to happen this year?
“We don’t know. It just happens.”
“Fake hair is good.”
“When we started this, sequins and tiaras were pushing the envelope,
and we don’t want to get complacent.”
“Someone’s going to sleep with the record producer and go out
and make a single!”
Is there anything you wish for this year?
“That we don’t look too stupid in our TV commercial.”
“To work on choreography.”
“I’d like us to sing with a band again.”
“One more major triumph under our belt.”
“Opening for the Uppity Blues Women again.”
“We buy all these clothes on eBay and thrift stores. The next obvious
level would cost a lot of money,” but they hint how enjoyable it
would be to design their own line of clothes ...
Since three of the four Flashes turn 50 this year, they are considering a cruise to the 50th state, which, they’re disappointed to find out, is Hawaii, not Alaska.
They’ve been invited by a menopause researcher to celebrate the end of the study with research participants, singing songs inspired by and about hot flashes. They don’t collect any of the money they receive for their performances; it goes directly to their church.
When I ask them about memorable moments, there are several.
Donna recalls, “At the Kingpins concert, my hair flew off my head and did not land in the audience.”
Terri describes the first time they visited Sandpoint, Idaho, for “Lost in the ’50s.” There were “all these little girls with poodle skirts who were mouthing all the lyrics. Then the girls asked us to dance. They copied all the moves we made.”
Lois tells about their performances at Good Sam, a local assisted care facility. “They really like us. We sing rock ’n roll there. This is the rock ’n roll that they used to yell at their kids for singing.” Laughing, she wonders if someday someone is going to visit her at a retirement community and sing rap.
Perhaps their most recent series of moments was their performance in Palouse, a small farming community in the midst of the rolling Palouse landscape. Set up in the grange, Lois remembers, “Great lighting, great sound. Our own concert. Two hours of us. The last song — ‘Midnight Train to Georgia.’ Donna is backlit, the light is right on her head, and she looked like a sighting of the Madonna. And I thought ‘this is what they show you in the final scene of the rockumentary.’ It was that perfect.”
Then there was the July 4th picnic at Sunnyside Park in Pullman, home of Washington State University. Having to do their costume changes in the back of a U-Haul, Lois sweetly motioned to a young 6-foot-tall football player for an assist. He gallantly carried each of them, in turn, from the U-Haul, carefully placing them on the stage. After all, says one, “getting down from the U-Haul in a tight skirt was difficult.”
I was there that evening, camera in hand, taking pictures of the performance. A small group of college-aged boys closest to the front of the stage intrigued me. Captured by the music, the glittery red, white and blue costumes, and by the sheer energy of these four women, the guys were having a blast, dancing and singing with abandon.
As the first fireworks fired into the moonlit sky, the Hot Flashes were
still singing. And having the time of their life.
