Friday, Dec. 12, 2003 | 8:44 a.m.
Cowboy hats, western shirts, Levis and big belt buckles are everywhere, strong reminders (for those who aren't into the sport) that the annual National Finals Rodeo has returned to Las Vegas.
Other hints are the Cowboy Christmas trade show at Las Vegas Convention Center and marquees around town advertising such country singers as Willie Nelson, Clay Walker, Randy Travis, Dwight Yoakam and LeAnn Rimes.
But the best clue of all is Ricky & The Redstreaks, performing at the Stardust Pavilion.
Across town, crowds estimated at more than 17,000 fill the Thomas & Mack Center nightly for the Super Bowl of rodeo (this year Dec. 5 through Sunday).
When the rodeo ends each night, about 20 percent of the boot-scooting fans make a beeline for the Redstreaks -- known by the faithful as "America's Rockin' Rodeo Band."
You'd think 5,000 cowboys and cowgirls would be looking for a dance floor where they can two-step or line dance.
Shucks, the Pavilion doesn't even have a dance floor or a mechanical bull -- it's just a huge room filled with row after row of long tables and fold-up chairs.
And there isn't going to be any two-stepping music.
The Redstreaks warm up the crowd with "Wipeout," a 1960s surf-rock instrumental by the Surfaris.
One of the most popular groups on the rodeo circuit doesn't play much country, just a lot of old-time rock 'n' roll, with a little blues and R&B mixed in for good measure.
While the six-man band (and one female vocalist) performs, cocktail waitresses with bottles of liquor strapped to each hip like six-guns stroll among a throng of partiers, pouring shots of bourbon and tequila.
Long-neck bottles of Coors (sponsor of the event) serve as chasers.
One recent night the 10 p.m. performance (the first of several sets) finally got under way at about 10:30 p.m.
The crowd was large and a little rowdy before the band began to play. The size -- and the rowdiness -- increased dramatically as the night wore on.
Everyone was eager for the Redstreaks, a group that has been together since 1968 (when they were known as The Train).
For some inexplicable reason they have been one of the most popular groups on the rodeo circuit since 1976 -- when, one evening, they happened to be playing at a club in Cheyenne, Wyo., at the same time the Cheyenne Frontier Days Rodeo was going on.
The rodeo cowboys and their fans dropped in on the rock 'n' roll band, and by the end of Frontier Days the Redstreaks were the biggest draw in town.
Today, 27 years later, they still are a phenomenon, performing for the sons and daughters of the fans who were around at the beginning.
The Redstreaks' success almost defies explanation.
It's a show band that blends bawdy humor and superb musicianship for a fun evening that usually includes a few of the more daring female audience members baring their chests.
The exposure has become so popular that the Restreaks have added a "Best Breasts in the West" contest.
The Redstreaks' co-founders are vocalist/comic John Jackman (aka Ricky Zucchini) and Ray Brown (vocalist/guitarist), both from Northern California.
Jackman is the front man, a self-effacing comic who doesn't mind stripping down to nothing more than tassels on his chest and a large, fake, covered phallus while lip-syncing "Where the Boys Are."
Brown does a variety of impressions, including Pat Boone -- not standard fare for your typical country music fan.
One of the highlights of the evening is red-headed vocalist Jeanine Marie, a sultry chameleon of a performer who sings anything from country to blues to jazz.
Put Marie in a long, black evening gown and she can enthrall a sophisticated audience at a black-tie affair with her vocal renditions.
Put the Las Vegas resident in blue jeans and let her get down and dirty on a stage in front of a liquored-up crowd and the place goes wild.
At about 11:30 p.m., with Marie singing Aretha Franklin's "Respect" and "Chain of Fools," the Pavilion explodes.
The tequila and long-neck beer kicks in and suddenly hordes of fans are dancing on tables, on chairs and in the narrow aisles.
The fact that there is no dance floor no longer is relevant -- and neither is the fact that America's Rockin' Rodeo Band isn't even a little bit country.
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