I Take It In The Can

From the forthcoming autobiography “There’s Nothing Louder Than Dead Air”

I got a call on the air from Tim one Tuesday, let's go catch The Replacements at The Cabaret. I loved the Replacements, I was going anyway, I had spoken with Paul Westerberg just an hour ago on the air, he had told me The Replacements were recording a live show that night and could I provide a loud, live introduction of the band, and if so, I could be heard on the CD, the show would start at nine pm sharp. Well, hell fuck yes I would do that. Tim and Skip the ass-kisser met me at my apartment at 7:30.

All three of us jumped in Tim's generic Camry, we gave him shit about this constantly..."what kind of a rock star drives that!"

Nobody has to ask where we're going, it's Finn McCools in Campbell because Tim knew the bartender Adrienne. She poured us two shots a piece of Cuervo Gold, we slammed the first one to get it rolling and slammed one for the road just before we left. In between the two shots, we each drank a Bud, I have to have it in a can.

"I take it in the can" I'd announce loudly.

"I do too. If it's not too big" Adrienne would always whisper.

“You’re in luck Timmy!”

Don't even TRY to tell me a Budweiser is better in a bottle because it's not. Skip the ass-kisser handed her a small folded envelope as her fee and we walked out at 8:30, enough time to get to The Cabaret to introduce the Replacements. The place was packed, my name was on the guest list, the doorman said to look for Wally who was looking for me stage left, Tim and I hustled to the bar, trying to lose the ass-kisser.

"What's up Blade. Beer and a shot?" The owner was Andy Miller, we did live rock concerts on the radio all the time from here and he bartended from time to time.

"Yes man. My friend Tim Stevens will take the same."

He fired off two shots of Gold right there, no fruit, two Buds in a can, poured himself a healthy shot of Gold which went down his hatch, we downed our shots also and walked off looking for stage left. In California, I love the fact that the bartenders could drink too. That made them nicer to us, and sometimes we wouldn't get charged, which we all as drinkers deserved, as much as we have drunkenly tipped undeserving bartenders.

There was Wally stage left as planned, and without even looking up, he slowly and uninterestedly points his crooked, crypt-keeper finger to the door leading to backstage, we step inside and there it is.