It’s the first day of a vacation and here I am sat while my wife sleeps listening to Creedence Clearwater Revival.
I’m feeling about now I should have a glass of bourbon in my hand or maybe a single malt, I also should have some deep reflective thoughts about the music. All of those things may be possible later but right now I am just enjoying the fact I don’t have to get up tomorrow. It’s also pretty early in the evening.
I have only ever owned CCR’s greatest hits in one form or another, this afternoon I found Bayou Country and Cosmo’s Factory while I waited for them to call me and tell me the Jeep was ready. The thrift store was within walking distance and why not just risk life and limb crossing the crazy street just on the off chance that there may be something there. 10 albums later I payed the mechanic and drove off. The records were considerably less cost than the car repair and potentially more entertaining. Although the vehicle can be pretty entertaining.
The last time I really sat and listened to a whole Creedence album was at Daves flat one Sunday afternoon when he tried to convince me they may be the greatest rock band in the world. Whatever his passion at the time was generally the greatest. We were attempting to stay awake to watch the Superbowl that was supposed to be being televised that year. Our answer to this was to drink American beer and bourbon and play music loudly.
Dave declared that it should all be American music which resulted in everything from Moby Grape to Frank Zappa via the Dead and the Airplane. There was a middle period in the afternoon when the first five Creedence albums were played in order as this 6ft 4inch bearded whisky breathed enthusiast pirouetted and declared their greatness. Luckily they are quite short albums however great they may be. At one point Dave whispered that he wished Dylan had co-opted Creedence rather than the Band as he thought that would have intimidated the English audiences and they would not have declared him Judas. None of it made sense and yet it was all so sensible.
I have no idea if we saw the Superbowl. I do remember rolling around Sefton park in the rain and laughing a lot though and the sound of John Fogerty’s guitar always puts a vague taste of bourbon in my mouth and makes me smile, go figure.