We were rocking with the old boys last night after hockey season came delightfully to an end. (Damn good final it was too. Fleury has to be considered a main contender to fill Canada's net in February.) Once I had enough of the Penguin's celebrations and Don Cherry's profound adoration of plumbers I asked Sonja to, "Put in the Neil Young tape."
She looked at me like I must be retarded and asked me, "Should I call a fucking doctor to remove that couch from your ass?"
"Don't give me that shit," I insisted. "Put on the fucking tape."
"You fucking put it on."
I sat there silently drinking my beer before I began again. Sonja was up before I had two words out of my face. I can be exasperating. She plugged in the American Masters recording we had made a couple nights earlier. I think of Neil as a Canadian but if the Americans can have all our oil and gas we might as well let them have Neil too. Motherfuckers.
It was a shoddily put together production which focused on Neil's Anarchist relationship with music. All he has ever done is follow the open road that is there for all of us to speed down. I guess that does make him a hero of mine. I was hoping the interviewer might ask him about the time he fucked Anne Murray but it never came up.
Next up was Lou Reed on Elvis' show. My mom phoned to tell me about that one. She knows I have never known what is on television ever since roller derby was pulled from the air in the '70s. "Lou is on Spectacle Friday night. I know you would not want to miss it." Not only that, the two days warning gave me time to pick up a bottle of Arran's Robert Burns' 250th scotch to drink with my beer when I was being entertained by my very favourite singer songwriter.
Elvis did a great country version of Femme Fatal and he and Lou sang Perfect Day and Set the Twilight Reeling. Elvis' voice is the perfect fit for Lou's songs. Set the Twilight Reeling was exceptional. Had not heard that for a while. The mix of Elvis' acoustic and Lou's ostrich guitar hit me right where the scotch goes.