Dancing With Janis Joplin

The following story is execrated from my forthcoming novel, Blood of Love.

I arrived late to Steven’s party having wanted to catch up on my studies first. When Izzy opened the front door I immediately recognized that there was something different about the house. I noted a cluster of people in one place, not all that unusual, but it seemed as though everyone’s attention was directed towards that cluster as if within that group of people something important or fascinating was happening. Izzy was smiling enigmatically at me but I didn’t think to ask her what was going on.

Then I heard a voice emerge from within that cluster that sounded familiar but also seemed out of place at Steven’s. I noted that the focus of the cluster seemed to be on one person, a woman. It was her distinctive voice that I'd heard. I got a look at her through the tangle of bodies between us, but couldn’t make out exactly what she looked like.

Izzy was still smiling at me and I finally asked her, “who’s the woman getting all the attention, she sounds vaguely familiar.”

"A personal favorite of yours."

"I give up, who is it?"

“Janis Joplin.”

To accent Izzy’s revelation and my consequent surprise, the woman laughed loudly. 

“My God it is her. What’s she doing here?”

“Jason invited her through a mutual acquaintance. When she got here she said to Steven, ‘I hear you have kick-ass parties.’”

“My God, I love her music. I’m totally starstruck. Can I meet her?”

“It’s a free country but it may take awhile, she’s drawing a lot of attention.”

"I've never met anyone famous before."

Knowing I’d need the fortification of a drink if I was to say anything intelligible to Janis fucking Joplin, I went to the kitchen and poured myself a tall glass of whiskey which I proceeded to down in three quick gulps. I poured myself another and made my way in the great singer’s direction.

I got to within a few feet of her and gawked as best I could, peering over shoulders. Janis was in the middle of telling a story that seemed to be about some backstage shenanigans at a recent concert. When she finished everyone laughed heartily, especially Janis. She then asked someone to get her another glass of Jack Daniels, adding, “why not bring a whole fucking bottle?”

Eventually a few people peeled away and I moved to within a few feet of my idol giving me an unobstructed view. She was not an especially attractive woman but at the same time positively exuded sexuality. Her voice was raspy yet had a certain indefinable quality that added to her sensuousness. Janis was wearing a plain short skirt below a flowery blouse. She had what appeared to be half a scarf wrapped in her long, scraggly hair. 

I'd been within perhaps thirty feet of her at a concert but was now within three feet. She was utterly beguiling.

Suddenly Steven appeared in the middle of the circle as if man on a mission. He cleared his throat theatrically while gently taking my arm. He bowed to the great singer.

“Janis, I take great pride in introducing you to a man of many great qualities -- too many to here enumerate -- who also happens to be among your legions of devotees. This is my dear friend David.”

“Hi, David.”

I was momentarily stunned silent but quickly recovered.

“It’s great meeting you, you're my favorite singer, I’ve seen you in concert three times.”

“Far out. Did you get up and dance?”

“It’s impossible not to dance when at one of your concerts.”

“That’s really groovy, man, you seem like a cool dude.” 

I wished it were somehow possible to take her words out of the air and hang them on a wall for permanent display. Janis Joplin had said I seemed like "a cool dude." No words, no honor, no award, had ever meant as much.

I had to keep the conversation going.

“Your shows are magic.”

“Thank, man. So, what are you into?”

This was too much: she was asking about me!

“I’m a student here at Cal and I’m heavily involved in the peace movement. That and music like yours and parties like this one.”

“Far out.”

Janis then turned her attention to someone who asked her a question about the Monterey Pop Festival. 

I continued to stand in awe. It was as if there was a glow emanating from Janis. She had a presence that I was unused to seeing in people, as if energy flowed around her. The one other person I knew of with a similar quality was standing next to her, Steven.

I felt a strange and wonderful euphoria, despite barely having a buzz from the whiskey. 

Eventually I grew self-conscious about standing beside Janis and staring so went about the usual business of mingling. As I talked to other people I found myself continually looking over in her direction. I desperately wanted to spend more time talking to her but was determined not to make a fool of myself so kept my distance.

An hour later I was sitting on the sofa chatting with Izzy when Janis plunked herself down next to me.

“I’ve been fucking standing for hours, I need to sit,” she said to the room. Then to me, “it’s David, right?” 

Janis Joplin remembered my name!

We talked and having already broken the ice and with whiskey coursing through my veins it now felt perfectly natural. Janis and I discovered we had a mutual fondness for Jack Kerouac and talked about his books then other authors. I asked her questions about her music and touring but she seemed more interested in discussing what she called “normal shit like books and food and sex.” We never got around to talking about sex, but sitting next to Janis it was certainly on my mind.

We'd gotten on the topic of other singers when Steven turned up the music and announced: "it pleases me to invite one and all to dance, anyone who does not avail themselves of this opportunity shall be forever shunned."

"Sounds like an order to me. Let's go, David."

I danced with Janis Joplin!

It was wonderfully surreal as if an LSD-induced hallucination had been actualized. We danced to two songs before she took someone else by the arm and I in turn danced with Emily Legly, a frequent guest at Steven's bashes. 

"What was it like to dance with Janis Joplin?" Emily asked me.

"Unreal but wonderful. But, say, I like dancing with you too."

"Thanks, but I doubt it's the same."

It wasn't.

 

A half hour later when Janis announced that she was leaving, it was as if the coach had turned back into a pumpkin. The magic was over. It would now be merely a party where before it had been a special event.

I walked with her and her two friends to the door. Before leaving she hugged me good night. It lasted two seconds. Two glorious seconds that left me tingling.

“David, you appear to be in a state of grace,” Steven said to me immediately after. “I would put your exact location as somewhere between clouds eight and ten.”

“I’ll never forget this night or that hug.”

“I don’t see what all the fuss is about as celebrity means nothing to me but I rejoice in your happiness.”

At home I could not sleep so composed a letter to Cordelia knowing that she, as as big a fan of Janis as I, would be happy for me, though perhaps a bit jealous. I’d thought to get Janis’s autograph and inserted with the letter. 

I finally fell asleep and dreamed, of course, of Janis Joplin.