It was all straightforward. When he rattled away he was examining his own thoughts, He clutched a battered copy of Bertrand Russell’s ‘History of Western Philosophy’ in his hand and waved it under your nose to emphasise a point. With anybody else it would have been pretentious bullshit but somehow with Jack it was real. The book was thumbed ragged. He quoted from it. He was stimulated by it as if it was a drug. He wrestled with paragraphs and wondered at others. Every page was an epiphany. He was amazed by it.
Surely everyone was as consumed by the wonder of this mad journey? Surely they had to know?
Jack was on a voyage and he wanted to experience every last bit. That book was his bible; he studied it. What was it about?
As for society, well, for Jack that was all about control. From the state and religion – control. He saw history as one long tapestry of how the robber barons, the popes and priests, the kings, queens and sultans all used and abused in their pursuit of power and wealth. He wanted none of it.
The party zoomed along its predictable trajectory, music pounding, jays and wine, people talking intensely in corners, people hooking up, some dancing, smooching, but for me, the whole constellation of activity revolved around the supernova that was Jack. He was wild, wild like no other.
‘You know, man. We’re the luckiest generation in all time!’ Jack was expostulating to a tall, lanky bearded guy who was nodding in agreement and searching for an exit strategy. ‘We’ve got access to everything. We can go where we want. Travel the world. We can read what we want. We can read any book that’s been written, man. We have access to the greatest minds, the greatest fucking thoughts that man has ever thought. It’s all here, man! This is how the big guys control us all, limit us, take away our freedoms!’
I watched with amusement, a tiny smile creasing my lips, as the scene played out.
I’d seen Jack many times at a distance at parties and gigs and heard him talk, intense, man, and laugh and laugh. It was obvious from first sight that he was crazy – strung out on craziness! I dunno why but crazy guys are so much more interesting, dangerous, thought provoking – just so much more alive! They connected you to that universal dynamo that made the whole heavens spin.
Jack did that.
I dug him for it.
Or perhaps it was that I was more than a little crazy myself. I had a bit of that need to burn. I had to know what set things spinning and how to wring the last bit of fun and truth out of it – how to strangle the dawn and cuddle sundown. But it was as if I needed someone to ignite the tinder.
I’d seen Jack from afar but I’d never met him.
Then, there we were, at Bede’s party, our eyes met and he laughed. It was like we connected; some kind of empathetic link. I don’t know. He came over and shook my hand, leaving the lanky guy in his wake. It seemed old fashioned but somehow right.
‘Seen you around, man,’ he grinned, gripping my hand tightly and staring into the depths of my eyes. And there I was finally getting to meet the guy. I enthusiastically gripped his hand right back at him and beamed a grin that was glowing with eager anticipation.
I had finally got to meet him. Here I was staring into those blue dancing eyes. There were no words that I could say. I had craved this moment. I had been at a loss to know how to initiate it. I had no words to say. Yet this was destiny.
‘Been meaning to say hello. You must come round sometime.’
I nodded sagely, strangely speechless for once. I wasn’t used to this. I too had been touched by that evangelical flame. This was a new experience for me. Jack didn’t seem to care. Something electric had passed between us. There were no words necessary. He scribbled on a piece of paper and thrust it at me. It was kinda weird. It was like I was star-struck or something. My mind froze. My tongue was paralysed. It was as if this meeting was too important to mess up.
‘Give me a bell.’
Then he was off. An’ that was it. We were like magnets for each other; meant to be. Well, you know what I mean, I don’t believe in destiny. From the moment I’d first seen him I’d known he was going to be an important part of my life. It was not destiny so much as our weirdnesses clicked. We hit it off. It was something you couldn’t put in words but our wavelengths were in tune. We were weirdly normal. It was everyone else who was nuts. We were in tune. We understood each other without having to speak.
That was the start. There was a lot more weirdness to come.
The party was bizarre too- one of Bede’s concoctions. An appropriate place to finally get to meet Jack.
We had been driving home in my beat up Ford. We’d been someplace I don’t know, a mediocre gig or something; I was driving him home. That was firstly because I was the less smashed of the two of us and secondly because it was my car. As we came up to this big old pub near his flat when the doors opened and all these crazy dudes started to spill out onto the pavement. It was so weird to be in the middle of nowhere and suddenly come across a herd of freaks. Bede saw someone he knew and shouted for me to pull over. I pulled in and there were a few cats I vaguely knew but no-one startling.
It was limbo time. That time when the day was held in suspense. The pub was chucking out and the town was dead. The car caused an instant focus. That might have been because of its luminous colour scheme. I’d hand painted with assorted gloss of tasteful orange, yellow, red, green and blue with a wide pink stripe down the middle. It was kinda fetching. It did kind of make a bold statement. Within seconds we were surrounded with a crowd with freaky cats and babes peering in through the windows to see if they knew us.
Before I knew it Bede had slipped out through the non-existent windscreen. I’d knocked it all out when a stone had shattered it, and did not have the money to replace the thing, besides it kinda suited the ambience of the car, me and the times, even if it was a pain in the arse when it rained and winter was coming. But hey, I’d cross that bridge when the time came. He swung up on to the roof.
‘Hipsters, Bipsters and crazy freaks!’ He roared in his best Lord Buckley impression. ‘Happening time is about to happen!’
The crowd instantly thickened from nowhere so that the car began to rock with the press of bodies all around. Where did they all come from? All these freaks in the middle of nowhere. This was show time. What the hell was going on? Still it had to be better than nothing.
I could see the two dents in the roof where Bede had planted his feet. I could see him, in my mind’s eye, standing up there with his fake brown fur coat and pink dot scarf, black white dot shirt, and bleached blond hair blowing in the warm summer breeze, lapping it up. He could be very theatrical, could Bede. He always took great care of his red velvet flares.
‘Party time!’ he called out. ‘Get your arses into gear we’re gonna rock some ears!’
There was a roar. OK. This was party time. They could handle that. Where was the party?
Goofin’: Amazon.co.uk: Goodwin, Opher: 9798854970976: Books