Staff Writer

Dateline: Imperial

These guys are looking distinctly nervous because when Washboard Willy's in full flight with his one-man band he becomes a veritable Pied Piper for all the kids within a mega-mile of his orbit.

No kid in his or her right mind is going to be thinking about food, fair souvenirs or carnival rides when there's an opportunity to get down and jam with Washboard Willy, also known as Larry Hiskett of Bend, OR.

"I give kids permission to have fun," says Hiskett.  "With me it's, 'Hey! Jump in and join the show because you are the show!'"

If it toots, whistles or bangs, then it probably has a place on Willy's music wagon, a homemade affair that sports cowbells, trash cans, duck whistles and a plethora of other noisy stuff.

And his music?  It's as eclectic as his wagon, a wondrous fusion of Cajun, bluegrass, jazz, rap -- and anything else you can name.

As for Washboard Willy himself -- well, he's a vision of sartorial splendor -- of sorts.  With his bright pink shirt, strand after strand of Mardi Gras beads and an outlandish Mad Hatter hat he's an arresting sight.

Life hasn't always been this colorful for Hiskett and his wife, Donnis, who is an integral part of his show.

Once upon a time, Larry wasn't married to Donnis and he wasn't Washboard Willy.  He was a sober-suited landscape architect and married to someone else up in Evergreen, CO.

Donnis was on the periphery of his life at this time but only as the young woman who operated a pasta franchise across the way from this office.  It would be more than 15 years before they would meet again several states away from Colorado.

It's been a long and circuitous route to his metamorphosis as Washboard Willy, he'll tell you.

Sure he played a little music on the side, mostly country and bluegrass; and yes, he first wife divorced him (she ran off with a bowler named Duke); and yes, absolutely, he yearned for a little more from life than the landscaping business could offer.

"My superintendent walked up to me one day and said, 'Larry, when do you think you'll be able to give 100 percent to this job?'  Well, I just kinda paused and thought about that question.  I'm thinking about my life and a bad motorcycle accident I had back in the summer of '87; everything in my life just flashed in front of me."

With the movie of his life on pause for a moment, Hiskett looks up to his boss and says, "You know, I think it's time I give me 100 percent of my life ... and the only thing right now I can think of offhand to give you is my resignation!'"

In October 1988, Hiskett took to the road to give it one more shot as an entertainer, this time on a full-time basis.  But he was still not Washboard Willy; he was merely a musician who dressed mainly in black and played the resort and party circuit around Steamboat Springs, CO.

There was still no hint of the colorful character who would emerge later,  And Donnis was not even on his radar screen.  She'd gone to California to become a computer programmer for United Airlines.

A serendipitous turn of events saw Hiskett, part of a musical duo by that time, securing a two-week stint in Japan as a cultural ambassador with his music.  That turned into a return invite for a six-week engagement, but this time without his musical partner.

"My partner was a little too fond of the local liquor and women for the tastes of our Japanese sponsors, so they just invited me back," Hiskett confides.

A subsequent musical partner also proved to be a little untidy in his social habits as a cultural ambassador.  So in 1992, when Hiskett was invited back to Japan for a third season, he knew he had to go it alone.

"This was a real turning point for me because it put me on notice that I had to do something as a one-man band.  I'd been a co-dependent drummer too long,"  he explains.

It also was a turning point in another sense, too; this was the time when Washboard Willy really began to emerge.

While performing a regular Sunday stint in Japan at a newly opened park in Yamagata Prefecture, Hiskett began to notice how children of all ages were responding to his music.  Wanting to fully engage the kids, he went to a local music store and bought a large supply of handheld rhythm instruments and took them back to the park.

"I seeded the lawn around where I performed with all these maracas and things and then waited for the kids," Hiskett said, smiling at the memory of the curious Japanese children looking at him cautiously and then looking down at the rhythm instruments lying in the grass.

"Next thing I knew, these kids were picking up the instruments, shaking them and then the walls came down.  Suddenly all the kids were jammin' with me and then I was leading everyone around the park in a conga line."

Knowing in his heart that making kids smile and laugh was a far better deal than playing to cynical, drink-in-hand adults in the bar and resort circuit, Larry Hiskett finally embraced Washboard Willy full-time and right down to the quirky and colorful clothes.

He joined the Western Fair Association and started to travel the circuit from Alaska to California.  And that's when Donnis came back into his life.

They recognized each other at a 1999 music festival in San Francisco where Hiskett was performing.  Says Donnis:  "I was certain that was him when I saw the washboard."

"Long story short:  In August, 2002, the couple was married at Circus!Circus! in Las Vegas and now you get two for the price of one when you catch Washboard Willy's act.

You can meet up with the dynamic duo at the Mid-Winter Fair through Sunday afternoon of this week.