Thank You, Neil Peart!
I FIRST HEARD the magical sound of Rush when I was 10 years old, strolling with my mother through a furniture store in Costa Mesa, CA. As “Big Money” played through the…
There was no trip to the Bahamas for Frankie. No Mai Tais on the beach, and no rest and relaxation. Frankie spent the next several weeks sitting and brooding in his mansion on the hill, trying to devise a plan to prevent a…
Frankie loathed meetings with the record company executives. The uppity board room. The rows of man-drones wearing three piece suits and sporting Steve McQueen haircuts. The hum of the A/C blowing stale air beneath soul crushing…
It was cold and wet and windy by Southern California standards. A storm was rolling in, and what we referred to as “winter” was approaching at a leisurely West Coast pace.