Good times folks. Gooooood times. I hope you all enjoyed a peaceful Easter vacation with your family, friends and loved ones. Being a God fearing man, I made a conscious decision some years ago to never work at this time so no gigs in some far flung town for The Mac, just time at home chillin’. It’s tradition in the Doc’s house to spend Easter Sunday at my place, invite over a few friends and acquaintances, eat good food, sink some Buds and relax with sweeeet music.
Will Butler had flown in the day before from Quebec and crashed at my pad. Much preparation to do so me and Will took my car and headed over to The Deli Belli Emporium. I have a good friend, Sam Booker, who owns the joint and he has the best meats and barbecue sauce this side of the Appalachians. Yeah, sweet food people. Sweet lovin’ soul food.
“Jeez Sam, no Deli Belli secret recipe barbecue sauce left? Damn my man, I have people coming over especially to taste it” I said when Sam apologetically informed me he had none left in stock.
“I’m sorry Doc” he replied “but I know someone who might be able to help y’all out” replied Sam.
“I’m listenin’ dude” I said.
Sam beckoned me closer and checking the place was empty whispered in my ear “Well in the South side of Chicago is the baddest part of town. If you go down there you better just beware of a man named Leroy Brown. Now Leroy more than trouble, you see he stand 'bout six foot four, all the downtown ladies call him Treetop Lover, all the men just call him Sir.”
“Ok” I said hesitantly.
Sam continued “And he's bad, bad Leroy Brown, the baddest man in the whole damn town. Badder than old King Kong, meaner than a junkyard dog.”
“Fuck sake Sam” I pleaded, “Barbecue sauce?”
“Oh yeah” and Sam scribbled Leroy’s address down on a post it note.
“Thanks dude” I shouted, waiving the post it as me and Will exited The Deli Belli Emporium, beef ribs, steaks, lamb chops, prawns and Leroy’s address in hand.
Me and Will headed over to Chicago and found Leroy’s crib. I hopped out the car and ducked my head back in through the door.
“I don’t like the look of this neighbourhood Will. Keep the car running.”
I shuffled up and knocked on the door of what was nothing more than a tin ramshackle hut. I heard footsteps inside and the door flew open. Facing me was the baddest man I’d ever seen.
“Watcha want?” he bellowed.
“Barbecue sauce” I replied.
“$2” he screamed.
I rummaged in my pockets and handed over the money. He thrust a jar of black treacly goodness in my hand then slammed the door shut.
We didn’t speak at all on the way back to my house and it was still early when we arrived.
“Hey Will? Wanna watch some soccer before we get ready for the other guests?” I enquired.
“Sure”
So I headed to the lounge and Will disappeared to his room. As I slumped into my chair, my dog, Diego, joined me, resting his head on my lap. He’s old now, a mangy mongrel mutt that I won in a game of cards at a travelling circus in Wisconsin. But I love that dog more than life itself. Will reappeared and said he had a gift for me. From behind his back he whizzed a Dunkin’ Donut Easter egg.
“Jeez Will, you shouldn’t have but thank you. Just place it on the dining table and get me and you a cold beer from the refrigerator. The game is about to start.”
And so me, Will and Diego watched Aston Villa play the Mighty Reds. Will asked why Aston was renowned for its villas but I just shrugged.
Oh no, the team from Birmingham went 1 score up and my heart sank. Tough love following The Mighty Reds. With a party to hold and guests to entertain later on, this wasn’t putting me in the mood. Even the waft of my wife’s Gumbo failed to lift my spirits. And so came half time. I gently moved the sleeping Diego from my lap and sank to my knees, hands raised to the sky (well, ceiling, I was indoor).
“Dear Lord, you know me to be a loving, caring peaceful man. Please Father, let the Mighty Reds win.”
And then came the divine intervention. Coutinho, the little Italian walting beautifully like a change of the Swiss Guard, threaded a ball through to Jordan (biblical dudes, biblical) and BANG 1-1.
“Great pass” observed Will.
“Great? Better than great Will. It would be easier to pass a camel through an eye of a needle than it would to make that pass.”
And things only got better brothers. Poor Diego flew off my lap when the penalty went it. “I love you Steven Gerrard, love you love you love you. I love you more than Diego.”
Diego whimpered and disappeared.
I was a bag of nerves. I paced the room biting my nails. Each minute felt like an hour, each second a minute. And then the umpire blew his whistle to end the game and I collapsed like a rag doll. “Sweet heavenly Father, thank you. I knew you wouldn’t abandon your Mac.
As I lay on the floor, I could see Diego’s legs by the dining table. He had the Easter egg. He’d gulped the Easter egg.
“Jesus Christ Will, ma dog’s ate the chocolate. He gonna die” I blurbed through misty wet eyes. I placed his head in my lap.
“What are you doin’ to my head?” asked Will.
“Sorry dude” I replied and ran to my pooch.
“Diego, I’m sorry my friend, of course I love you more than anything in the world. I just got lost in the moment. Don’t leave me Diego.”
Diego raised his head, lifted his tail and shat all over my carpet then scarpered to the back yard.
I raised my eyes to heaven and mouthed “Thank you Lord for saving ma dog.”
Happy days people. Happy days.
Will Butler had flown in the day before from Quebec and crashed at my pad. Much preparation to do so me and Will took my car and headed over to The Deli Belli Emporium. I have a good friend, Sam Booker, who owns the joint and he has the best meats and barbecue sauce this side of the Appalachians. Yeah, sweet food people. Sweet lovin’ soul food.
“Jeez Sam, no Deli Belli secret recipe barbecue sauce left? Damn my man, I have people coming over especially to taste it” I said when Sam apologetically informed me he had none left in stock.
“I’m sorry Doc” he replied “but I know someone who might be able to help y’all out” replied Sam.
“I’m listenin’ dude” I said.
Sam beckoned me closer and checking the place was empty whispered in my ear “Well in the South side of Chicago is the baddest part of town. If you go down there you better just beware of a man named Leroy Brown. Now Leroy more than trouble, you see he stand 'bout six foot four, all the downtown ladies call him Treetop Lover, all the men just call him Sir.”
“Ok” I said hesitantly.
Sam continued “And he's bad, bad Leroy Brown, the baddest man in the whole damn town. Badder than old King Kong, meaner than a junkyard dog.”
“Fuck sake Sam” I pleaded, “Barbecue sauce?”
“Oh yeah” and Sam scribbled Leroy’s address down on a post it note.
“Thanks dude” I shouted, waiving the post it as me and Will exited The Deli Belli Emporium, beef ribs, steaks, lamb chops, prawns and Leroy’s address in hand.
Me and Will headed over to Chicago and found Leroy’s crib. I hopped out the car and ducked my head back in through the door.
“I don’t like the look of this neighbourhood Will. Keep the car running.”
I shuffled up and knocked on the door of what was nothing more than a tin ramshackle hut. I heard footsteps inside and the door flew open. Facing me was the baddest man I’d ever seen.
“Watcha want?” he bellowed.
“Barbecue sauce” I replied.
“$2” he screamed.
I rummaged in my pockets and handed over the money. He thrust a jar of black treacly goodness in my hand then slammed the door shut.
We didn’t speak at all on the way back to my house and it was still early when we arrived.
“Hey Will? Wanna watch some soccer before we get ready for the other guests?” I enquired.
“Sure”
So I headed to the lounge and Will disappeared to his room. As I slumped into my chair, my dog, Diego, joined me, resting his head on my lap. He’s old now, a mangy mongrel mutt that I won in a game of cards at a travelling circus in Wisconsin. But I love that dog more than life itself. Will reappeared and said he had a gift for me. From behind his back he whizzed a Dunkin’ Donut Easter egg.
“Jeez Will, you shouldn’t have but thank you. Just place it on the dining table and get me and you a cold beer from the refrigerator. The game is about to start.”
And so me, Will and Diego watched Aston Villa play the Mighty Reds. Will asked why Aston was renowned for its villas but I just shrugged.
Oh no, the team from Birmingham went 1 score up and my heart sank. Tough love following The Mighty Reds. With a party to hold and guests to entertain later on, this wasn’t putting me in the mood. Even the waft of my wife’s Gumbo failed to lift my spirits. And so came half time. I gently moved the sleeping Diego from my lap and sank to my knees, hands raised to the sky (well, ceiling, I was indoor).
“Dear Lord, you know me to be a loving, caring peaceful man. Please Father, let the Mighty Reds win.”
And then came the divine intervention. Coutinho, the little Italian walting beautifully like a change of the Swiss Guard, threaded a ball through to Jordan (biblical dudes, biblical) and BANG 1-1.
“Great pass” observed Will.
“Great? Better than great Will. It would be easier to pass a camel through an eye of a needle than it would to make that pass.”
And things only got better brothers. Poor Diego flew off my lap when the penalty went it. “I love you Steven Gerrard, love you love you love you. I love you more than Diego.”
Diego whimpered and disappeared.
I was a bag of nerves. I paced the room biting my nails. Each minute felt like an hour, each second a minute. And then the umpire blew his whistle to end the game and I collapsed like a rag doll. “Sweet heavenly Father, thank you. I knew you wouldn’t abandon your Mac.
As I lay on the floor, I could see Diego’s legs by the dining table. He had the Easter egg. He’d gulped the Easter egg.
“Jesus Christ Will, ma dog’s ate the chocolate. He gonna die” I blurbed through misty wet eyes. I placed his head in my lap.
“What are you doin’ to my head?” asked Will.
“Sorry dude” I replied and ran to my pooch.
“Diego, I’m sorry my friend, of course I love you more than anything in the world. I just got lost in the moment. Don’t leave me Diego.”
Diego raised his head, lifted his tail and shat all over my carpet then scarpered to the back yard.
I raised my eyes to heaven and mouthed “Thank you Lord for saving ma dog.”
Happy days people. Happy days.
