The hidden years in Canada 27, days of the future..

Door San-Daniel gepubliceerd op Sunday 29 March 08:13


Days of the future

Scott McKenzie, gave advice from the old radio how you had to go to San Francisco. Namely with flowers in your hair. Fuzzy already belonged to another world. I shook it off, I had learned that there were two worlds, the real one where I worked during the day and the world of your own free time and sometimes there were common grounds between the two. We who  moved between those worlds met the normal people at the interfaces of those worlds. In bars or pubs, as subsets of a Venn diagram. The last thought made me chuckle, except for Rico, or me, no one, but no one at work would ever have heard or understood something about subsets in mathematics. It was part of another regulated world of teachers, development and future plans. Most people would not understand our real world and thought that our life was, as we experienced it in our free time. it was not easy to explain it well,

The world of jobs in a bank or clerks in an office or girls behind a counter was inexplicably different than what we were doing. It was a make-believe world of almost carefree friendships and in our world blew people away or you went to the beer guzzling Indians that would stand around you with knives and promised you in the loudest voice that they were going to cut you open and look at your gut. Fuzzy was the only one who had not stood up, he did not like violence, and one day later it proved fatal to him. How opposite can events unfold, I thought. He had also been the only one with future plans and they had been blown away with him.


 I tried to imagine what it would be like in the prairie town of Fuzzy. Would sadness dominate, or would that only apply to his immediate family. It was strange how little we actually knew at work about each other.  I did not even know whether Fuzzy had brothers or sisters. Why did he leave his village and what had he sought in the big city? Had it really only been for the money or had the lure of the big anthill of anonymous people, just become too powerful for him in his cowboy village and had he not been able resist the lure?

I wondered where the world's best cowboy would be now. The spirit in the sky, I thought out of nowhere, had called our Mama Fuzzy, with some good lead guitar tunes around it .. and a synthesizer. Music had the answers in it, it was the unifying element in an insane world, which was stampeding along. ‘Going up to the spirit in the sky, that's where I am going when I die ...’ CKXl and her music filled us with ideas that were comforting or explanatory in nature, the hippie era became strewn across Canada. That brought me back to my reality and I stopped in front of a record store to see if they already had the album that I had heard earlier in the day.


There was an attractive hippy-like girl behind the counter and she asked if she could be of service to me. ‘You bet,’ I said, and we both had to laugh. It actually was not so nice, but I had to laugh. ‘I meant with choosing a record,’ she said. ‘What else could you have meant,’ I chuckled and she blushed deeply. I was turning into a primitive man, a  hunter to be, I thought. ‘I'm looking for something with Tuesday afternoon on it, I heard it today on CKXl,' 'Oh, 'she replied,' that's a beautiful song that is so hot and you’ll find it on the LP 'Days of the future past.'  ‘Could be,’ I said. ‘No,’ she laughed, with bared teeth, ‘that is how it is.’

'Okay,' I said, 'I really want just that number, a single and not the whole LP.‘ ‘You know,’ she replied, the single has been sold out and the 'B' side is not so great, for a little more money you can buy the album and it’s got ‘Nights in white satin’, on it.’ 'So,' I said, 'where were the nights held? ‘ ‘Between nice soft sheets,’ she laughed, as she eyed me with more than professional attention alone. ‘ Go ahead, ‘I mean the record, I explained and she replied,’ what else? ‘ ‘It was too bland for words, but It was a game of boarded tension and I wondered if I  radiated sexual willingness and whether it was because of Shirley. Like here I am, come and get it.

‘Present,’ she asked? 'Yes,' I said, 'for one lucky lady. ‘ ‘Who you are  going to make very happy,’ she laughed. ‘If I can help it,’ I said while I was fishing the money out of my wallet. ‘You’ll probably succeed,’ the girl said, ‘Well you know, if you ever need help with anything at all, with music or give it a name, you know where can you find me?’ ‘I'll remember,’ I said. Half the world is composed of hunters, I thought as I stepped out the door and the girl wished me a nice day, or night she had added to it. ‘Thank you that might just come to pass,’ The other half is hunted. it is difficult to determine where the hunt ends and you become the prey itself and with that deep thought, I got back into the Pontiac and let the engine growl. So the lp was called 'Days of the future passed'? That had been his karma this morning, as a forward reflection of what we all had waiting. The future of Fuzzy’s days had certainly passed..

With the wrapped up lp I walked into the stairwell and knocked at the door of Shirley's flat. It was 10 to seven, the door opened a crack, a chain across the door remained connected to the wall and then I saw Shirley and I forgot about folk being blown away or records and salesgirls and I pranced, there stood Shirley waiting in black stockings and while the door opened, she said, ‘come in, as it were.’

San Daniel March 2015

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