If Creedence Clearwater Revival can’t fix you then nothing can.

Anecdotes are glorious things - especially when you learn about the origins of things that you really are most awfully fond of. My parents had been watching something about racial divisions in the United States’ armed forces (something which my father witnessed in Vietnam). My father is not an overly tolerant man in many ways and he quite disliked the American armed forces (maybe some day I’ll tell you some of his stories). Actually, he loathed the white American soldiers and chose to do his drinking with the African-Americans. Dad’s story about the first time he and some mates stumbled into a bar patronised by black GIs is pretty funny and because he and his friends weren’t intimidated (well, they were but they didn’t leave) or prejudiced and stayed to drink ensured that they were always welcomed back. I think dad’s main point with that story is something along the lines of not having had to buy a drink all night – universal good will through free piss. Anyway, my mother’s story tonight was about how dad’s drinking habits and his choice of drinking companions lead him to Creedence Clearwater Revival. Always having had a soft spot for Creedence this story greatly amused me.