I'll never forget 'whatshisname'!
The year was 1968, and I was off to a party in the suburbs, I doubted very much whether I would enjoy myself. Then I spotted Yan (Ian), he was wearing a grey sweatshirt and faded jeans, a 'small faces' hairdo and very, very handsome. “Some Enchanted Evening” came to mind as
I caught his eye. He sauntered over and admired the Russian cross I was wearing. Yan was Russian! Further discussion revealed he was a music teacher and had just introduced Donovan to his pupils. We chatted and strummed some Donovan numbers .. He mentioned he was leaving for South Africa, or was it New Guinea ,and asked to see me when he returned. Well, that was bullshit I thought, I’ll never see him again.
Forever on, I raved about Yan, his grey sweat shirt, his faded blue jeans and his lovely, lovely face. I could not get his face out of my head. I will remember that face until the day I die! Months later at the * Trolley Car Bar, I edged my way up front to get a glimpse of Terry Darmody and the Battersea Heroes. I felt a tap on the shoulder.
"Hello Lynne, I have been looking for you everywhere, you didn't leave a forwarding address."
Who was this person? I must have squizzled up my face for he offered.
"It's me Yan, can I see you, where do you live?" I gave him my address and took off in shock.
The year was 1968, and I was off to a party in the suburbs, I doubted very much whether I would enjoy myself. Then I spotted Yan (Ian), he was wearing a grey sweatshirt and faded jeans, a 'small faces' hairdo and very, very handsome. “Some Enchanted Evening” came to mind as
I caught his eye. He sauntered over and admired the Russian cross I was wearing. Yan was Russian! Further discussion revealed he was a music teacher and had just introduced Donovan to his pupils. We chatted and strummed some Donovan numbers .. He mentioned he was leaving for South Africa, or was it New Guinea ,and asked to see me when he returned. Well, that was bullshit I thought, I’ll never see him again.Forever on, I raved about Yan, his grey sweat shirt, his faded blue jeans and his lovely, lovely face. I could not get his face out of my head. I will remember that face until the day I die! Months later at the * Trolley Car Bar, I edged my way up front to get a glimpse of Terry Darmody and the Battersea Heroes. I felt a tap on the shoulder.
"Hello Lynne, I have been looking for you everywhere, you didn't leave a forwarding address."
Who was this person? I must have squizzled up my face for he offered.
"It's me Yan, can I see you, where do you live?" I gave him my address and took off in shock.
At the time I was living at Errol Woods in Alison Road, Randwick. Wally Mudd and I sang and played guitar, night and day, day and night, with cracked voices we croaked on, and on. The 'jam' usually came to a close (having exhausted our repetoire) with us painfully whining "Happy Birthday". On numerous I heard Errol calling.
"Lynne, Yan's here to see you!"
"Be there in a minute.” I replied. Not daring to miss a beat. Never even looking up!
This happened repeatedly until I guess Yan gave up ..... WHERE ARE YOU YAN???
* The Trolley Car Bar: a music venue off Broadway, near Sydney University. A lovely little wine bar, uniquely decked out in the fashion of a 'tram' with a narrow aisle and seats down either side. A small stage down the back featured The Original Battersea Heroes belting out jug band music.
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