The hidden years in Canada 30, John Fogerty

Door San-Daniel gepubliceerd op Saturday 04 April 10:27


John Fogerty

Jeff guided us to the outside of the town, where the houses are scarce and the apartments disappear. We came around a corner and we did not have to guess where the party was. Music came towards you, not booming and in a drone as many years later would have been the case, but just loud. The current dominant bass beat machine had jet to be invented and would in later years, kill all good music. People were standing about in the front yard and on the sidewalk and the front door was wide open and people walked in and out. A few giggling girls were dancing barefoot  in the street, high, I thought. While I searched with the Pontiac for a parking spot, we heard even with the windows closed; Guinnevere by Crosby Stills and Nash. It set the mood, this was groovy man, I turned off the engine and pulled the love beads from my shirt. The shells were strung with here and there a feather between them. From a leather cord dangled my gold coloured peace sign. I felt connected to the new world order. ‘Love man, ‘I said to Rico and he laughed and said,’ peace and happiness ‘and the evening had started well.

We walked with the bottles in our hand inside, following Jeff and found the host in the kitchen. Who looked as though he was far gone. A pungent smell of Mary Jane, as the love grass was called, hung like a cloud around him. Hey cried, ‘Jeff,’ here we are men. ‘ ‘Cool,’ was our host’s reply. ‘These are my friends,’ Jeff said. ‘Then they are also my friends, man,’ laughed the man. ‘Put your stuff on the counter and enjoy, because the night is young.’ Someone gave him a joint from which he drew with great pleasure before passing it on. ‘Jane is upstairs,’ he said, ‘the real Jane’, he laughed enjoying his own pun. ‘Far out,’ Jeff said, ‘that’s is where we will go looking for her, first a shot in the arm.’ An alarm bell started ringing in my head but Jeff grabbed three glasses and poured those full of whiskey. 'Peace man, ‘I said to the host, who I never saw again, the whole evening and following night.


‘Hey,’ said a nice girl when I had to squeeze past in the corridor when I followed Jeff to the stairs, ‘are you really John Fogerty?’ She looked at me with big hazy eyes, she is on dope I thought. I was often compared to John Fogerty. We both had the same lank blond hair that went greasy far too quickly was there was only a small difference, I worked in the high-rise construction as a labourer and John Fogerty was the founder of Creedence Clearwater Revival. ‘Shhtt,’ I said, ‘our little secret,’ it would make no sense to really talk to her .. ‘Hey John man, you sing so well, will you sing something for me?’ Rico stopped and looked at the girl well and said, ‘I’ll sing for you if you want me to.’ ‘No, man, I want to hear born on the bayou from you,’ and she pointed at me.'Hey ‘If I have time I’ll do so  later,’ I replied. ‘Not so fast 'and she pressed herself against me, making the whiskey slosh a little over my glass. ‘Gimme a hug,’ she said, ‘I want to be hugged by John fucking Fogerty.’

She really thought I was him, I just wanted to greet the hostess and then I would start my evening. ‘I'll be right back,’ I said. ‘Give me a hug,’ the girl said loudly now. 'Fucking John Fogerty gimme a hug. ‘ ‘What the hell,’ I thought and wanted to press a kiss on her forehead. She put her head up at the last minute and I kissed her right on her mouth, her lips parted and it became an unintended French kiss. ‘So fuckety 'she said' that wasn`t bad, now was it?’ ‘I was kissed by John’ she called out proudly and looked aroud herself. Jeff came back a few steps to see where we were and asked in surprise, ‘John?’. ‘Yes,' I said, 'just for now, for her.’ ‘Well John,’ said Jeff, ‘hop along then we’ll go greet Jane and then we can celebrate afterwards.’ ‘I'll see you later,’ I told the girl who was still pressing tenderly against me. ‘Do not stay away too long hey, you're my fuckerty!’ ‘How do you do that,’ Rico asked? ‘Mantras,’ Rico, I laughed 'mantras. ‘ We struggled a few steps forward and were now almost at the stairs. Behind me I heard the girl say, ‘hey, are you back already?’ I turned around and yes it was her standing next to a boy with straight blond hair and she grabbed him. ‘I will not let you go this time...’ I heard when I went up the first step. 'Okay,' the boy said, 'far out. ‘


4 + 20 years and Suite Judy Blue Eyes started now. The music rippled through the entire house. ‘What is the name of the host’ I asked Jeff. ‘Robert something,’ said Jeff, ‘I know him because of Jane. ‘She is independently wealthy and everything you see here is hers.’ I do not know why, but I just assumed that she would probably be canine ugly. If anything, you cannot be filthy rich and pretty, that's just not fair. We walked into a room and there were some men around a table, one had his arm tied and had a syringe in his hand. ‘Hey Jeff,’ cried the man, ‘how is it going man.’ Jeff pointed to the syringe, 'Hey man, Larry, what are you pushing. ‘MDA’ laughed the man, ‘there's plenty to get here, but beware hey, it is pure.’ ‘We're looking for your sister,’ we’ll see you later, Jeff laughed. He waved the needle, 'love man. ‘ ‘Jeff are a lot of drugs used here or is it a coincidence,’ I wanted to know?

‘Men,’ Jeff said, ‘this is not a cowboy party. This is real. ‘ We walked to a second door, the lights were muted and there were candles on the ground. A scantily clad woman with a hippie band in her hair sat with a circle of men around her, here sounded only oriental music. The room was filled with incense, the sickly sweet smell floated towards us, to greet us.

San Daniel March 2015

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