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Images of sitting in some small club in Savannah Georgia listening to a guitarist doing his cover of Brown eyed girl over and over again, drinking beer and eating oysters out of a bucket. Telling politically incorrect jokes around a table with other servicemen. Spending nights in local hotels with strange women and dancing swing-style to "Moondance". Even at my young age Van Morrison conjurs up memories of even younger days when the weight of responsibility was not so heavy upon these jaded shoulders.