Posted by: tootingtrumpet | August 5, 2013

Ashes Remembered – Stevie Nicks

Edgbaston 1977

Edgbaston 1977

Lindsey and I were going through a rough spell, so Mick whistled up one of the Rolls and we went off to some cricket ground in England. Mick had said that the game was so boring that it would take my mind off everything that was so wrong with Lindsey, with my life and with the dealers who just couldn’t get the right kind of coke, even at the prices I paid –  which were top dollar, I can tell you.

I had to walk up the stairs to my seat, something I hadn’t done in five years in LA, and the ordeal did not do my black velvet dirndl skirt any good. It wasn’t long before my wide-brimmed hat was attracting negative comment too. Mick had regressed into his teenage years, drinking beer and talking about Peter Green like I cared, and I just couldn’t get a decent Martini. Jeez, I thought Birmingham Alabama was Hicksville, but Birmingham England was even worse – they even had the gall to describe the place as at the edge of Boston.

We had toured Australia a couple of years earlier – at least I think we had, it was a bit blurred to be honest – but none of the players recognised me, the woman who had written “Dreams” for them. To be fair, some of them were busy running about a bit in the cold, but most of them stood about like roadies waiting for the dope to turn up. Mick was right – I was bored.

I never even liked baseball, so after a couple of hours of this British version, I’d had enough and asked my personal assistant to put down the parasol – would that finally please the locals? – and drive the Rolls round to the gates. Bravely, I walked down the stairs unaided, and even opened the door to the car before knocking some powder off the seat and getting inside.

I arrived back at my suite just in time to find Lindsey and John completely re-arranging my new song – “Life’s hard”. I soon put a stop to that nonsense, had my first decent martini of the day and spent the rest of it hidden behind my shades, plotting my revenge against Mick (and Lindsey and John and maybe Christine too, though I can’t be sure). I counted the hours before I could return to LA. The money had brought us so much, but it couldn’t buy happiness – though it did buy an awful lot of therapy.

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