Back in the early 70's, I had taken time off from college and went to work as a mechanic in a Brooklyn car dealership.
One of the top mechanics was a devoted Eric Clapton fan. Near his lift was a small, plug-in AM/FM radio, always tuned to WNEW-FM.
When the first few notes of this song echoed, he rushed out from under what he was working on, cranked up the volume, and started screaming out the lyrics. The entire shop stopped dead in its tracks.
He turned me into an Eric Clapton fan - and I can't ever separate this song from him and that radio sounding out on the bay floor.
And let's not even talk right now about the time I rushed out to get multiple copies of the Concert for Bangladesh for all the mechanics who worked there... :)
2 comments:
Back in the early 70's, I had taken time off from college and went to work as a mechanic in a Brooklyn car dealership.
One of the top mechanics was a devoted Eric Clapton fan. Near his lift was a small, plug-in AM/FM radio, always tuned to WNEW-FM.
When the first few notes of this song echoed, he rushed out from under what he was working on, cranked up the volume, and started screaming out the lyrics. The entire shop stopped dead in its tracks.
He turned me into an Eric Clapton fan - and I can't ever separate this song from him and that radio sounding out on the bay floor.
And let's not even talk right now about the time I rushed out to get multiple copies of the Concert for Bangladesh for all the mechanics who worked there... :)
- J.
Jeff,
If you are going to anchor a song with a memory, that's a pretty neat one.
I may still have that Concert for Bangladesh album in my storage room.
Great stuff.
Michael
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