Once upon a July fourth

We went to Rhode Island

To the Newport Jazz and Rock Festival,

We being Mufti, Pebbles, a couple of Mufti's friends, and me  

We departed in Mufti's VW bus at daybreak

Dropping 4‑way tabs as we left  

By midmorning we were well into Connecticut

And stopped at someone's house

To meet up with more festival‑goers  

Eventually, over a dozen of us zanies took off for the festival

In a dark, stuffy metal box ‑‑‑ the back of a U‑Haul truck  

The trip seemed to go on endlessly

With various delays and traffic jams

And the frustation and claustrophobia were compounded by

Two or three inept harmonica players merrily blowing their harps 

We finally arrived at the festival in late afternoon

Thoroughly strung out but glad to have survived  

Several good acts were there that first night

Including Jethro Tull and Ten Years After

But Mufti and I were impatient

For one of our heroes, Jeff Beck, to appear

So, while Blood, Sweat, and Tears were on

We periodically gave vent to hails of "We want Beck!"

During the evening Mufti and I had been roving

Through the 25‑odd thousand people there

Looking for the "right" pair of chicks  

On and on we roamed

Also finding various resting places to scan from  

As the night grew late

And Beck's appearance imminent

Mike and I stood in the aisle

Among the dark, seated multitude

Having given up our quest  

Suddenly we both turned around to see who the girl was

Who'd just yelled from behind us "Michael!"  

It was one of the girls I really liked at school,

3000 miles away in Los Angeles,

Barbara Sweeney  

She and I rushed through Beck together, our hands locked  

She was only there for that night, travelling with her family