My daughter said she answered a question on Facebook tonite about the first concert she remembered and how old was she at the time....
She said her answer was: My mom sang "Let the Midnight Special" with John Fogerty at a small concert he did in Troy, Oregon - I was 12 years old."
She was right. And of course there's a story that goes with that comment. It goes like this ----
John Fogerty was building a house in Troy at the time, and we had become friends. My husband, Joseph, was even helping him and his crew (translate - members of his band) with the construction. The house was being built on the bend in the Grand Ronde River there. So did you finish the house, John, and did you live there? I remember some of the "town folk" saying the house wouldn't last the first flash flood on that river. Hmmmmm....
As for the concert, it was fantastic, except for that some lowlife stole Fogerty's white Fender guitar (no I recall it WAS a Fender, not a Gibson - altho his bio says that was a 'trademark" of his - Gibsons, that is) when he took his one and only break after playing with his band for over FOUR hours at this FREE concert (we're talking about John Fogerty here, folks, of Creddence Clearwater Revival - gotta put in a plug for the man).
He played at the then-known-as-"The-Tack-Room" in Troy that night. There was absolutely NO advertising, only word of mouth, and yet people came from all over. My daughter said "a small concert" -- by Troy standards, whose population is (per Wikipedia) standing at about 25-30 -- this was NOT a small concert by any means. There were hundreds and hundreds of people that showed up. I even personally heard some say they were from Canada.
It was a great night. I sat with his wife, Martha, in the first booth by the stage. Then -- I got to sing with the band. And yes, I picked Midnite Special to sing. I will never forget it. :o) I nailed it. :o)
During our friendship I remember the Fogerty's gave us a kitten from a recent batch their lady cat had produced. We eventually named the kitten Karellan, because he was the Overlord in our lives....after Arthur C. Clarke's novel, Childhood's End. (He also wrote 2001: A Space Odyssey - for those of you who might think Stanley Kubrick wrote it - not - Kubrick did the film - ok - genius, in either case. (Sidetracking - but as my daughter says - a trip down memory lane. That's why I blogged it. So you can remember too.)
Oh, I should have added - the year - it would have been 1974 - best I can figure. I had a very young daughter at the time who was probably not more than 2 yo.
Ok...this is a little late in the writing, but let's go back to Thanksgiving last year. It'll be worth the trip, guaranteed.
My daughter hosted a Thanksgiving dinner for the family at her home; everyone brought their favorites and she certainly had a few of her own to share. One of her specialties is a very Southern way to fix yams. She learned how to do it when she was going to college in Dallas, Texas, from one of her best friend's mom. It's so simple and so good that I do it the same way now. Simply peel the yams, cut them up in nice sized pieces, put them in a nice stainless steel pan, cover them with sugar (white sugar, mind you) and put the pan in the refrigerator overnight. You see the sugar somehow turns into a light sugar syrup overnight - it must leech out some of the moisture in the yams as the hours go by. Now to cook them you add absolutely nothing, place the pan on the burner, medium heat, and watch your yams like a hawk, turning them over gently, as the sugar syrup becomes a gooey lovely thick sugary goodness coating your yams - cook until tender. Oh my Oh my Oh my! Well we look forward to this dish now every year,,,,maybe twice a year for Thanksgiving AND Christmas, if we're lucky!
So.....now.........as Paul Harvey would say,,,,,,,,"For the rest of the story...."
Remember the part about peeling the yams? Well, when my daughter peeled them,,,,somehow,,,,,alllllll of the peelings went into the garbage disposal at the same time,,,,and,,,,,oh,,,,you are already figuring out what took place? Genius that you are!
Yep. In the rush of things, sometimes we don't get all of our ducks in their proper row....and these peelings certainly weren't in theirs. We, of course, didn't hear about this story, until the Thanksgiving meal had been eaten and enjoyed by all....the story was saved for the end of the evening - so much the sweeter to savor -- and to laugh at!
Yes, you also may recall at the beginning of this little tale, I said the yams are prepared the night before. So here they are, my daughter and family (husband included) getting the house ready, cooking, cleaning, doing a million little things that they would be doing to prepare for guests - basically us - family! And wearing themselves out in the doing, noooooo doubt. That's my daughter allright!
So.....back to the yams ...... when......my daughter turned on the garbage disposal after peeling alllllll those yams......yep ------ CLOGSVILLE!
JAMMED THAT PUPPY RIGHT UP!!
In comes hubby.....who now...in the dead of night.....has to get under the sink and play plumber! He has to completely take apart the plumbing,,,,,unjam all the peelings that have found a lodging place where they ain't 'upposed to be....and put the whole thing back together again ! It was late. Seriously late. Hubby was not all that happy. Neither was wife.
Uhhhhh....sooooooo now that the plumbing is back together,,,,,now that the sink seems to be in proper order again,,,,,the question is....does the bloody garbage disposal work? Can we trust it? Well, I guess we better test it out then, right? (You can imagine this conversation between wife and hubby - that's your job.) Sooooo,,,,,wife grabs something to put down the disposal,,,,what that something was,,,,,but let's pretend it was a stalk of celery, ok? "NOOOoooooo," hubby says,,,,,,"not that!" (Whatever it was,,,,,onion peels maybe? I don't know - it was not a good thing, on that we can be assured.) "Something SOFT!" he adds. "OK," wife says,,,,,,,"let's try a pickle!"
A PICKLE!
Of course!
A PICKLE!
So,,,,pickle it was.
And pickle disappeared -------- down the garbage disposal and down the drain!
I believe the last words that were uttered in the kitchen that night were:
"OH THANK GOD! HONEY, IT TOOK THE PICKLE!!!!!"
