Sunlit Lawns and Ocean Dreams in Australia

It was a groovy, grassy setting, adorned with mason jar-barn lights.

The green lawn, soon to be covered with blankets was kissed by the sun and framed by the whispering willow trees. The lake peeped out from behind the vast, seemingly black stage. 

A green mesh net, similar to that of a fisherman’s was suspended above it. Large clear acrylic lanterns looking like paint cans weighted it at undulating points. As the cans and subsequently, the mesh floated up and down, the led lights washed up from below, in hues of blue, then green, then red portraying that beautiful expanse that Jack so adores, the ocean.

There was a fantastic energy on that lawn. One of happiness, togetherness and peace.

Silly me always thought he was Australian. Perhaps it’s because that’s where I discovered him.  I spent many a morning listening to “Banana pancakes” in 2005. In the years that followed, Jack became my Sunday sound track.

Surfers used to camp at the beach in their hippie-esque campervans and station wagons, smoking, surfing and playing their guitars. I always envied them. It seemed like bliss, provided that one wasn’t opposed to sand in every crevice, or needed to shower and shampoo hair daily.

As it turns out Jack Johnson hails from another island, other side of the globe. This surfing, guitar playing, philanthropist is actually born and raised in Hawaii. He married his college sweetheart and they have three kids, at least, so google told me while I basked in the sun at Deer Lake Park.

John Craigie opened for him, a skinny American white boy that looked like he stepped straight out of That 70’s Show. Funny, interactive, endearing. John sang, played the guitar, the harmonica and cracked jokes in between, a talented bloke. 

There was a fantastic energy on that lawn. One of happiness, togetherness and peace. Encompassed by food trucks, health food kiosks and Jack Johnson souvenirs.

The tattooed Chinese guy with the afro, wearing a pineapple print Hawaiian shirt bounced passed me making his way back to his crew of four other Chinese guys with ‘fros. 

The pierced couple behind me shared their weed. The older couple across the way tucked in the blanket around their son in a wheelchair, cerebral palsy I suspect. 

Some ate ice cream, others complained about the length of time it took to get a beer, but when Jack stepped on stage wearing a green t-shirt, blue jeans and the broadest smile, we were transfixed. He seemed genuinely happy to be here, and positively stoned.  

The beach balls bounced weightlessly over the crowd and the couple dressed up as bananas did eventually get the shout out they were hoping for.

As I watched him play his guitar amongst friends, I was reminded of those boys at the beach. Friends, jamming, except with much cooler instruments.

“He has the coolest job in the world”. Net worth, 20 mil, not a bad wage for doing what you love. 

Jack started off with his trusty wooden guitar and after a set, it was quickly swapped out for a sick cherry red, acoustic one. The piano was old and wooden, and it’s maestro was equally eccentric. He played with passion and animation and thank God for that brain of his under the straw fedora because Jack forgot words and song sequences more than once. 

It was all good, a beautiful experience. 

The beach balls bounced weightlessly over the crowd and the couple dressed up as bananas did eventually get the shout out they were hoping for.

Jack did the soundtrack for the movie Curious George, so there were lots of kids in the audience. As he began “Upside down” the little blonde girl on her dad’s shoulders recited every word with her right hand in the air, two fingers outstretched, without a doubt, a fan for life.