Trisha and I drove out together in my dad’s Toyota. There was a long line-up of cars waiting to get in and we sat listening to The Beatles’ new hit, Get Back on the radio. A group called The Fifth Dimension had a smash hit record titled, Aquarius, from the Broadway musical, Hair. The song proclaimed:
This is the dawning of the age of Aquarius
The age of Aquarius
Aquarius!
Aquarius!
The festival was situated in a large rolling meadow which was part of a farm. There were two stages; one up on a hill and another by a grove of trees on the other side of the grounds. There was a huge crowd and the whole thing was appropriately disorganized; not enough port-a-potties, long line-ups for water and food, but, nobody cared, everybody had a ball.
Segment 41 played around mid-day. Horowitz had so much energy and charisma he could have played all day and the people would have loved it.
We played later that day and again the following day. John had acquired a chopped & channeled Hammond M-3 organ and the band bought matching Acoustic amps from Kelly Deyong Sound.
Kelly Deyong was a music store and sound company supplying the sound systems for all concerts in the Vancouver area. They operated out of a bright yellow house at the corner of Fourth Avenue and McDonald Street.
Our stage was looking pretty sharp with the four tall blue and black Acoustic stacks and matching Leslie speakers on each end. Steve had also upgraded to a cherry red Gibson EBO bass. We opened with a blues instrumental shuffle by Freddie King and Sonny Thompson that had been immortalized by Eric Clapton on The Bluesbreakers album. The song was titled, Hideaway. Lindsay’s cherished off-white Les Paul guitar had finally returned from the factory, one year and eight months later (not the promised two weeks), and he was inspired; even though the guitar was now inexplicably canary yellow. He absolutely smoked Hideaway! We also introduced a song we had just lifted off a Traffic album titled, Pearly Queen. Traffic’s drummer, Jim Capaldi, was fluid, almost jazzy, but I approached the song with a heavy Mick Fleetwoodinfluenced feel riding on the toms instead of the cymbals. Then we launched into the Doors’ Backdoor Man and really started to rock.
Later that evening Trisha and I and Geoff ended up in a tent with some bikers. One of them laid a syringe and several little vials on a blanket between us. He invited us to help ourselves to some morphine. Somewhere in the back of my mind I saw images of wounded World War Two soldiers writhing in agony in their hospital beds, hopelessly addicted; screaming for more morphine. I let Geoff tie me off and shoot me a taste. Oh! Sweet sister morphine! I went numb all over. I did not care that Trisha was angry. I did not care that she was disgusted. I did not care about anything ... Only getting another shot. That wasn’t going to happen. Trisha dragged me out of there and I never saw visions of those poor wounded soldiers again.
Summer arrived and the weather was getting hot. Trisha and I went to a party in Kitsilano with all of The Seeds. The house was a big old three-story type built in the twenties all over Kits. There were few rooms on the main floor but they were spacious with high ceilings. The place was packed with hippies. There was a lot of wine, pot and hash. The lights were low and it was smoky and mellow. I heard some commotion in the kitchen and drifted in that direction to see what was happening. I was surprised to find Trisha in a heated exchange with Ron, the speed dealer.
“Aw come on, Honey,” Ron pleaded, “drop your laundry.”
Trisha laughed at him, “I don't think so ... Why don't you take off your clothes.”
Heroin had taken over from speed in his life. He was stoned on junk but that didn't stop him. He ripped off his shirt, dropped his trousers and pulled down his shorts and was naked before anyone could blink.
“Okay, Sunshine.” he grinned. “Now it’s your turn.”
Trisha stood thinking for a moment then gulped back her wine and stripped off her dress and panties. I was shocked. We all were. Then everybody began to peel off their clothes and within minutes everybody in the house was naked. Reluctantly, I took off my tee-shirt and jeans and the first nude party of the summer was flapping in the breeze.
I did not like our nude party phase. I suppose that I always wondered if I was packing the proper size in the genital department. I’m not really sure because I have never been curious about those belonging to other males and have tended to avert my eyes in public washrooms, showers and at camp. Most importantly, I have not had any complaints or returns from any females that may have been serviced over the years; at least not in terms of mass. Certainly there have been occasions when the flesh was willing but the spirit couldn’t get it up (with me, an erection was more of a spiritual thing – it had less to do with fleshy desires) but that had nothing to do with size.
Of course, all vaginae are not all the same size either. Some are tighter than others, some are wetter than others; some are hotter than others. This all has an effect on the poor erect penis which has no intelligence of its own and, worse, appropriates whatever is contained in its host brain rendering it empty and therefore stupid. This explains the moronic behavior of men in an aroused condition.
All I know is that once a fad like this was started it couldn’t be stopped. It did have its advantages. There was the stunning woman named Jane who had partly caused the break-up of Geoff and Jocelyn. When Jane slipped out of her little dress I suddenly appreciated the nude party. She displayed her Raquel Welch-like body and flounced around like a Playboy model. But for every Jane there are many non-Janes and that can quickly dampen the enthusiasm for nudity. Additionally, there is no sight in the world less stimulating than a naked man in black socks and there always seemed to be somebody in black socks.
After the novelty wore off, everybody at the party ended up wandering around talking and laughing and generally cavorting as if everything was normal except, in this case, everyone was naked.
When I met up with Trisha, I expressed my surprise, “I can't believe that you instigated this whole thing. It doesn't seem like you.”
She shrugged her bare shoulders and said, “I had to call his bluff.”
The next thing I knew, I was sitting in an oversized armchair in the middle of the living room with Trisha’s thighs straddling me and her breasts slapping against my face. She was riding me up and down while we were surrounded by a hundred disinterested naked people. Like I said, “penis up - brain down”.
As a band, we would go anywhere at any time to play a gig. We thought nothing of piling into Sub-A-Lub and zigzagging up the mountain highways to play for anybody that wanted us. On one such trip to Penticton in the Okanagan we pulled over for gas in a one-pump town called, Hedley; population - maybe three hundred. Years ago Hedley had been a bustling mining town but the mine had closed in 1955 and had been neglected ever since.
Geoff, Jim and I wandered up into the enormous dilapidated steel and wooden structure. It was like the site of some sci-fi horror film with old hulking machine-creatures rusting in the darkness. We climbed on the machine-creatures and played all throughout the ruins for quite a while. The mine hung precariously on the side of a steep cliff. We sat out on the rocks on a bluff that allowed us a panoramic view of the Similkameen Valley. Jim fantasized with an idea to build a theatre here, on this spot, right on the side of this mountain, where The Seeds of Time would play and people would come from all over the world to see and hear us. Some twenty years later a promoter did stage a music festival in Hedley then moved it to Merritt BC where it has become one of the biggest Country Music Festivals in the world. Maybe Jim wasn’t crazy. Not completely anyway.
When we got back to the gas station and Sub-A-Lub and the rest of the guys Geoff told everyone what Jim was planning. The man who worked behind the counter looked up in amazement.
“You can’t go up into the mine!” He exclaimed.
“It was far out, man.” Geoff