Ever since releasing their megahit, Proud Mary, back in 1969, Creedence Clearwater Revival (aka CCR) has been my favorite musical group.
Unfortunately they unexpectedly split up in 1972. John Fogerty, the driving force and chief songwriter of the group, broke out on his own, while two of the original members later formed a new band called Creedence Clearwater Revisited.
So when I discovered that John Fogerty would be appearing at the Orange County Fair in the Pacific Amphitheatre, I immediately purchased two tickets. I invited another huge CCR fan, my best friend Dave, to join me on July 28, 2004, to celebrate his birthday in style.
We decided to arrive early before the concert and enjoy the other activities offered at the fair and make a day of it. After a few hours of eating, drinking and walking, we had seen enough. However, we still had three hours to kill before the start of the show.
Dave and I decided to walk over to the Pacific Amphitheatre and attempt to check out our seat location. Arriving at the entrance, we noticed barricades blocking the pathway to the arena, but there were no guards present. Ignoring the “do not enter” signs, we slipped past and proceeded down the long walkway and up the stairs, ducking under a string of unattended caution tape to the top of the venue.
We noticed a band playing on stage as we descended the stairs of the empty amphitheatre in search of our seats. An usher sitting in one of the seats smoking a cigarette spotted us and hustled over and politely asked where we were going.
Dave told him we wanted to see where our seats were for the concert later. To our surprise he escorted us to the seats and strolled away responding, “Have fun.” Our seats were in row E, only 40 or so feet from the stage. Sitting down, we realized it was Fogerty and his band practicing for their performance. Looking around, Dave and I were amused when realizing we were the only two people in sight. I leaned over and whispered to Dave, “This won’t last long!” He responded, “Just be quiet and act like we belong here.”
I winked, wishing I had an ice cold beer in my hand. Here we sat, on a warm sunny summer day, the joyful recipients of a private concert from John Fogerty. It proved to be one of those surreal moments in one’s life. I kept glancing around waiting to see a team of security guards rushing to our position and preparing to escort us from the grounds.
Twenty minutes passed as the band belted out their yet-to-be-released song and the name of their new album, Deja Vu All Over Again. Soon Fogerty smiled at his guys, gave a thumbs up and emphatically stated, “That’s it!” They were now prepared to perform Deja Vu for the first time in front of a live audience, except for Dave and me of course.
The band continued practicing all of CCR’s classic songs to be played that evening. I was a little giddy, thinking, this is just too good to be true. About the time I began relaxing and believing we might not be booted from our seats, I noticed an usher hustling down the aisle. He turned down our row, swiftly moving toward our position.
“We’re busted Dave,” I whispered as I nodded toward our evictor. Instead, he sat down next to Dave. “Pretty cool, huh guys? I love Fogerty. You guys havin’ a good time?” Dave cautiously answered, “This is really cool, thanks.” The young usher got up, chirped, “Later dudes” and jogged out of the stadium.
“Too weird man,” I said to Dave just as Fogerty started to belt out “Bad Moon Risin.”
We quickly decided on a game plan—do not clap, cheer or stand up—just relax and look like we belong there. Over the course of the next hour, the band played, joked and bantered amongst themselves. Fogerty even nodded to us a few times and we politely nodded back.
On the inside I felt like a teenage girl might feel getting a private concert from Elvis; however, on the outside I resembled a corporate CEO at a board meeting. It had become a cat and mouse game of seeing how long we could last before getting ejected.
Although ushers, security guards and a variety of strangers periodically buzzed all around our location preparing for the 8:00 p.m. concert, no one approached us for the remainder of the practice session. We were able to preview the entire performance although it wouldn’t begin for another hour.
When the band finally exited the stage, I glanced at my watch. We had been in our seats for one hour and forty-five minutes. Grinning at Dave I gleefully declared, “Unbelievable man, now let’s go get a beer and a brat before the next show, “I’m thirsty!”