We now know exactly where the term “North Coast” originated.
It became official Monday afternoon, when Pat Dailey and I decided to make it official.
The longtime singer-songwriter is not an egomaniac, and he has never tried to claim ownership of the term. But he was burned once on another of his creations, so it didn’t take much arm-twisting to persuade him to lay claim to this one.
“I made up some things one Christmas that looked like icicles hanging off my house,” he said by phone from his home in Bay Village. “I taped a bunch of lights together on dowel poles, and it was just spectacular.
“I live on Lake Road, which is a busy street, and people were up on my porch, looking and saying, ‘How did you do that? I’ve never seen anything like it!’
“And then, about five years later, when the lights got real popular and started being made commercially, somebody in Bay Village claimed credit for it. And I know she was one of those who were coming up and looking at mine!
“So let’s claim this one and let somebody else try to fight for it.”
Works for me.
In the case of “North Coast,” as used to describe Lake Erie’s southern shoreline, we have solid documentation.
Back in 1977, when Dailey was but a wee lad of 37, he took pen to paper and created Put-in-Bay, a paean to summertime decadence. He recorded it the following year on the album Whiskey Morning.
The third verse goes like this:
Take along some homegrown, take along a bottle of wine
Waitin’ for Commodore Perry, oh, I hope it’s on time
East Coast, West Coast, no need to roam, you know
The North Coast is better ‘cause it’s closer to home
So, goodbye my little ’ol gal, I’m goin’ to Put-in-Bay.
The song was a regional hit, and Dailey made frequent guest appearances on Cleveland radio stations, particularly on John Lanigan’s show.
In late 1980, a couple of Cleveland businesses started using the term in their names.
In 1981, radio station WMMS (100.7-FM) started using it in station IDs. The same year, the Michael Stanley Band recorded an album called North Coast.
Today, as we noted in a recent column, more than 2,000 businesses have filed with the Ohio Secretary of State’s office for names containing “North Coast.” The term is in use by everyone from manufacturing firms to medical facilities to a college athletic conference.
Dailey says he never even considered the possibility that all of this sprung from his song until I asked his manager about it last week.
“As a rhyme in a song, it was a natural thing to talk about the East Coast and the West Coast,” he said. “Well, I had to have another coast to put in there.
“So I think, well, it’s logical that I could have easily thought of that. And I cannot for the life of me think of anywhere else I’d heard it, and my wife, who is from Cleveland, can’t remember hearing it, either.
“So I can’t really say that I absolutely did [invent it], but — .”
No buts about it. Chalk this one up to the creativity of an itinerant troubadour.
Even at age 70, Dailey keeps moving, playing shows for the Put-in-Bay party crowd from May through October, living in Bay Village from October until late January, then relocating to Key West, Fla., where he is a wintertime fixture at Ernest Hemingway’s old haunt, Sloppy Joe’s Bar.
While in Northeast Ohio, Dailey continues to play regional gigs, such as the one set for Friday at Medina’s Weymouth Country Club.
If you’re not familiar with his music, he’s sort of Northeast Ohio’s version of Jimmy Buffett, making his living with his songs that celebrate sun- and booze-drenched hedonism.
Despite decades of living his own lyrics, Dailey says he’s feeling great — which, he admits, surprises him.
“I’m having more fun now than I was having a lot of times during my career,” he says, “because [when you’re younger] you’re always thinking about moving forward. ‘Where is this going to lead? How is it going to end? Am I making the right decisions? Do they like this song? Do I look OK? Blah, blah, blah.’
“Well, when I hit 65, I said nobody is going to give me a gold watch and thank me for my service. I’ve got to do that myself. So I started making this mindset that it’s kind of a past-tense thing. This crazy idea I had about being a singer — it worked.
“So then by the time I hit 70, I’m in stride. If it worked, if it got me where I am today, which is comfortable and happy, then I’m not going to second-guess it anymore at all. …
“It’s a good place to be.”
Especially when you’ve named the place.
Bob Dyer can be reached at 330-996-3580 or bdyer@thebeaconjournal.com.
