I Killed Pink Floyd's Pig by Unknown

Author:Unknown
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Peanut Butter Publishing
Published: 2015-01-25T16:00:00+00:00

Maybe the alcohol clouded his judgment. Maybe he liked my quick thinking and resourcefulness. Or maybe he just liked my ability to find beer. But in the end, I got the job, Dickey Betts got his beer, and no one got hurt.

Chapter 18

ROBERT PLANT AND THE HEDGEHOG

“If there’s a bustle in your hedgerow, don’t be alarmed now. It’s just a spring clean for the May queen.” Led Zeppelin “Stairway To Heaven”

Google the phrase “Rock God” and you will probably see a picture of Robert Plant. Famous for his tight leather pants, long golden curls and hairy chest, Plant swung the hammer of the gods as the front man for Led Zeppelin. He was the testosteronecharged poster boy for heavy rock. Robert Plant was the gold standard by which all rock stars would be compared. Many singers tried to emulate him. But nobody could match the singer’s swagger or commanding stage presence.

After Led Zeppelin called it quits, Plant stepped down from his throne and released a solo album called Shaken ’n’ Stirred. For the first time, he used different musicians and embarked on a concert tour without his Zeppelin bandmates. Just the mention of seeing Robert Plant sent shivers down the spines of all Zeppelin fans. When he announced his first nationwide U.S. tour, his concerts sold out quickly.

A few days before Plant’s local show, his record company rep called with an offer I couldn’t refuse. “Robert doesn’t usually meet people. But if you’d like, I can bring you backstage for a private chat with him before the show.”

“Are you kidding me? I’d love to meet Robert Plant!” My friend went on, “Robert wants to hear how fans are responding to his new album. He wonders if they accept him as a solo artist.”

I think I wet myself. “Cool! Yes! Absolutely! Wow!” While I’ve met quite a few rock gods, I had yet to meet anyone from Led Zeppelin. Here was my chance to check “meet Robert Plant” off of my bucket list. I was thrilled, but also nervous. No matter how many stars you meet, it’s intimidating to be face-to-face with your heroes. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I get tongue-tied like anybody else. I usually mumble something stupid like “good show” or “you were great, really great.” And then I retreat to a dark corner.

On the night of the concert, I was determined to impress Robert Plant. This time, I’d ask smart questions and not come across like a dork. Robert was due to take the stage in thirty minutes. So, his record company rep handed me a backstage pass and escorted me back to Plant’s dressing room. We knocked, and an enormous security guard opened the door. I expected to see sleazy groupies, piles of booze bottles, and the full display of rock star decadence. Instead, the room was almost bare and quite understated. There were a few armchairs and a table filled with a selection of healthy food, as well as beer and wine. I joked to the label rep, “This looks too civilized.

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