 |
||||
 |
 |
 |
|
 |
 |
||||
 |
||||
|
Something must be done, so, one night I show up with a Beatles album under my arm - and I had sent for reinforcements. There's a knock on the door. Michelle answers and there's Cass. She's got on a pink angora sweater, a little white pleated skirt and matching go-go boots. John looks at her, "Jesus, what is that ?" The funny thing was Scott McKenzie, John Phillips and Cass Elliot were all from Alexandra, Virginia and went to the same high school but Scott and John were the older guys. She knew John by reputation but he didn't even know she existed. Anyway Cass comes in, introduces herself and announces that she has brought "Presies". She lays a little paper package on the coffee table and carefully unwraps four sugar cubes . LSD-25. |
|
John and Michelle had never taken LSD before that night, but Mitch, like I said, Mitch is always ready for
anything. She goes for a cube but John takes it from her and sniffs it like a Cuban cigar. "I think I'd better
try that first, darling." See, John had to be in charge, always in control. He knew how everything fit - how it all worked together,
but Cass was a leader too and she'd brought the acid. This was her trip and she wasn't about to let Mr. Phillips
commit any psychedelic faux pas. So, she pops a cube into Michelle's mouth, takes one herself, drags her aside
and before you know it, the two of them are yaking away like the best of friends. So, I drop the last cube,
slap the Beatles on the hi fi and crank it.
Shake It Up Baby (Twist and Shout)
|
| "It's too simple! It's three chords, Dennis! It's Guantanamera with a beat." It was beneath him. See, John was a 'folk artist' and doing very well at it. So, we sat around smoking pot and arguing. Every once and awhile Cass would yell over: "You get off yet?" And John would reply: "No. This stuff is useless." Everything started to shimmer. Michelle had this big old antique birdcage and I found a flashlight and put it inside - huge shadows wrapping around the walls and we're all in the bird cage together. John slides off the sofa into the bottom of the cage and I had him. So, I put the speakers on either side of his head and play The Beatles one more time. | |
|
Now, I didn't know it at the time and I didn't find out 'till years later, but Michelle told me that night she
and Cass had a conversation that went something like this: Cass, "Isn't he the grooviest?" Michelle, "Oh yeah, he sings great." Cass, "Not the voice - the ass." Michelle, "You and Denny?" Cass, "Fat girls need love too, Michelle." Michelle, "Mmm - now that you mention it, he looks a lot like John Lennon. Cass, "Hey! I saw him first." |
|
The record ends. I open my eyes and John is gone. He's in the kitchen shoving Vienna sausages into his ears. "John, there are no new bookings for The New Journeymen. It is called the British Invasion. We're losin! Either we go electric or we die. John, John. John !" "Sorry man, I can't hear you. I got sausages in my ears." We dug the sausages out of his ears and he admitted they sounded OK, but see, John had built something: The Journeymen were his creation. And he wasn't about to chuck the whole thing for rock and roll. No, he had to have a better idea. But all he could come up with was: "We need a vacation." But where to? John had a suitcase full of money, about nine thousand dollars cash and the group's American Express card. So, he told Michelle to close her eyes, walk to a map of the world hanging on the wall - and point. |
Next stop - the Virgin Islands . . . . | |