I’ve been reminiscing about my college days spent in San Diego recently and I remembered a little story about the time I met John Lodge and Mike Pinder of the Moody Blues.
As a college student in San Diego I shared a house with some friends from high school back in L.A. On a holiday one of my roommates went home to Los Angeles but was going to return over the weekend because we had tickets to see the Moody Blues perform at the San Diego Sports Arena. He asked me to pick him up at the airport as he was flying back. At the appointed time I drove down to the airport and waited for his arrival. His flight came and all the passengers disembarked but he was nowhere to be found. I did however spot John Lodge and Mike Pinder, the bassist and keyboard player from the Moody Blues waiting at the gate for the arrival of Pinder’s wife.
I walked up and introduced myself as a long time fan and ticket holder to their upcoming concert. They were very nice and we talked about the 70s Prog Rock scene. I loved the King Crimson album, In The Court Of The Crimson King, and asked them how popular it was when released in England as it was virtually unknown in America at that time. They told me it was very successful in England. John Lodge said something I found funny when he said he was hungry and wanted either some ‘health food’ or a taco. I never thought of tacos as being particularly healthy cuisine.
When Mrs. Pinder arrived and they left the airport I also gave up waiting for my friend and went home. When I got there I found he had taken a car ride back from L.A. and didn’t bother to tell me. I fell for this a second time years later in L.A. when this same guy asked me to pick him up at LAX and although I searched the arrival area and the baggage claim I couldn’t find him. I had a date with me so we left, had dinner and when I returned home I found he had been in the airport bar and eventually called a friend to come get him. When I asked him why he was in the airport bar when he knew I was coming to get him he replied that was where he and his mother always picked up his father when he flew home. “That was because your dad was a drunk,” I told him, which was true. What a nimrod.
As a college student in San Diego I shared a house with some friends from high school back in L.A. On a holiday one of my roommates went home to Los Angeles but was going to return over the weekend because we had tickets to see the Moody Blues perform at the San Diego Sports Arena. He asked me to pick him up at the airport as he was flying back. At the appointed time I drove down to the airport and waited for his arrival. His flight came and all the passengers disembarked but he was nowhere to be found. I did however spot John Lodge and Mike Pinder, the bassist and keyboard player from the Moody Blues waiting at the gate for the arrival of Pinder’s wife.
I walked up and introduced myself as a long time fan and ticket holder to their upcoming concert. They were very nice and we talked about the 70s Prog Rock scene. I loved the King Crimson album, In The Court Of The Crimson King, and asked them how popular it was when released in England as it was virtually unknown in America at that time. They told me it was very successful in England. John Lodge said something I found funny when he said he was hungry and wanted either some ‘health food’ or a taco. I never thought of tacos as being particularly healthy cuisine.
When Mrs. Pinder arrived and they left the airport I also gave up waiting for my friend and went home. When I got there I found he had taken a car ride back from L.A. and didn’t bother to tell me. I fell for this a second time years later in L.A. when this same guy asked me to pick him up at LAX and although I searched the arrival area and the baggage claim I couldn’t find him. I had a date with me so we left, had dinner and when I returned home I found he had been in the airport bar and eventually called a friend to come get him. When I asked him why he was in the airport bar when he knew I was coming to get him he replied that was where he and his mother always picked up his father when he flew home. “That was because your dad was a drunk,” I told him, which was true. What a nimrod.
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