Music, bodies, the smell of commune-grade hash. Barry's boyhood friend, Doug, drenched in mud, wailed with the music.  Drivin' that train
        High on Cocaine
        Casey Jones you better
        WATCH YOUR SPEED!
  "Watch your speed, not cocaine! How crazy is that!" Doug said as he danced at the Rosebowl. He had his Casey Jones engineer cap on and tears streamed down his mud-soaked cheeks. "Gerry you are a god! Cool--"
  "Like ice cream," said Barry smiling, having learned the time traveler's trick of popping up behind people.
  "Woh, young Barry."