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The Second Coming of Jack Johnson
Wednesday, 4:30 p.m. at A&B Amphitheater, MACC

April 07, 2005





I had this acquaintance in high school, Jan, who was and—I’d be willing to bet—still is, the tannest, most beachy, most stony chick in all of Southern California. And that’s no mean feat, you understand, if you’ve ever lingered for a spell anywhere south of Big Sur. Anyway, long-blond-haired Jan was the one you’d call if you ever felt the urge to bail on Geometry and head to T.J. for some Corona and Mezcal and big bright paper flowers.



If you ever asked Jan what she was up to, she always had the same response, “Just kaybeein’ it!” The first time I heard her, I had no idea what she meant.



“Kaybeein’ it, Jan?”



“Yeah, Marn, you know, just kickin’ back. Kaybeein’ it.”



Aaaaah, yes. Quite right.



Then we probably hopped in the back of some dude’s pickup truck, got a couple of Marines to buy us a six pack, and basked in the vast Santa Ana Indian summer of youth.



But now we’re all older. And those days are just a distant memory for most of us, unless, of course, you live in Hawaii or you’re in the presence of Jack Johnson, the indisputable Patron Saint of Kaybeein’ It.



Johnson was deep in the throes of an Australian tour when last we spoke. From the sound of things, it was one of those whirlwind-types—in and out of vans, small planes and various sea vessels: Sydney, the Outback, Adelaide, then back again to Sydney. And all this with his wife and wee baby in tow.



“Are you stressed out?” I asked, picturing my family attempting a similar death-defying stunt. Did I forget to whom I was speaking? I must have for a moment.



“Naaah,” he said. “It’s a great place to tour. We just took a couple of days off to go surfing. It’s like a big road trip with my family and friends.”



If, in a bizarre and glorious booking coup, someone actually got Woody Allen and Jack Johnson onstage together, the audience would behold the yin and yang of the East Coast/West Coast spectrum. One on clarinet, the other on acoustic guitar. One frightened and neurotic in the face of American vacuity, the other coolly nonplussed, bent on doing good and keepin’ it real.



Johnson joined a host of musical luminaries, on the “Vote for Change” Tour last fall, including Jackson Browne—who joins him for the upcoming Kokua Festival at the MACC. Scores of musicians performed in swing states prior to the November election, hoping to inspire young voters to head to the polls. And oust our current Commander-in-Chief. I figured George W. Bush’s dubious reelection would have made Johnson a little hot under the collar.



“Yeah, I was a little bummed for a few days there,” Johnson said. “I felt like it was a pretty negative direction for our country, but I try not to stay pissed off because then it’s hard to be effective, you know?”



Was Jack insinuating that screaming “You lying *sshole!!!” eight inches from the T.V. screen might not constitute serious grassroots political effort? What a strange, refreshing perspective. [MARNIE MASUDA]







The Kokua Benefit features Jack Johnson, Jackson Browne, John Cruz, G. Love & Special Sauce, Ozomatli, and Kawika Kahiapo & Kaukahi. Doors open at 3:30 p.m. Tickets are $35 general, $40 reserved. Call the MACC box office at 242-7469.