Kraggenburg, Nederlands - August 13th, 2005 - - I took
the train from Riny's town to Amsterdam. I didn't have the correct
change, so had to pay 5 Euro extra to the conducteurto write me
a ticket. I'm gettin screwed here. Tip: ALWAYS have a lotta change
at the treinstation.
We got to Amsterdam
and though I tried to call Rory Campbell, the famous Amsterdam RocknRoller,
I was unable to reach him. I hooked a left and hoofed it up to the
Future Coffeeshop, said Hi to Marcel...tell him I sent you.
"Nice haar,"he says. Ï like the very VERY redness
"Shit happens," I say.
I hang awhile, smoke
a hashjoint. "Think the Pollux is open yet?" I ask.
Marcel slopes out from
behind his counter. He peers through the glass and the drizzle and
says, "Yes I think so."
I haul my Dean and my
grouch box outta the Future Coffeeshop and across the bridge toward
the Cafe Pollux.
Lemme tell you about
the Pollux. In the same family from ever since Rembrandt was a little
guy livin on the Mass River, this place has been through it all,
Napoleon, the German occupation, everything...you can put your head
down on the bar, you're passin out on history...Espinoza used to
peddle his newpapers here.
Frits and Tanja, who
know more about me and my family than any others this side of the
Atlantic, are, en tableau, just as I remembered them. Dutch kisses
all around. How wonderful to see old true friends! How delightful
to let pretense fall from your shoulders and be with family. I feel
like the side of a freakin herbal tea box here, but it's true.....these
characters were so very important and helpful to us when we were
lost here...Tanja teaching us Dutch common sense and Frits ever
ready for another story. So it is not superficial, but important
that I see these wonderful down to earth people again,
Meantime, I'm trying
to get ahold of Rory , but his phone's gefukked or I'm gefukked.
I can't reach him.
I leave my grouch box
at the Pollux, hoof it over to Lijnbaansgracht and the MelouMalo..no
Rory. I have a chat with Jur and with Patrik, who says Rory may
be over at the new Last Waterhole, which has moved without my permission
to the Leidseplein from the old Centraal Station neighborhood where
it was back in the day.
I metatarsal it over
to the Leidseplein to the Last Waterhole and to Bourbon Street,
but no Rory. I take a taxi back to The Pollux, which costs me as
much in Euros as it used to cost me in guilders.
Well, after all this
ankling, hoofing and metatarsaling. I'm about ready to give up on
Amsterdam, so the Pollux stays open one hour longer in my honor
and, accompanied by my good friend Rene, I go to the station and
buy a ticket to Zwolle, where The Doc thinks I may show up tomorrow
I get in to Zwolle and
call The Doc. He's not awake yet, but after a little while he comes
and picks me up. I crash at the home of his girlfriend Christien
(more about her later).
I sleep a long time....