Thursday 29 November 2012

                                  Legends of Brocklehurst - Chapter 7 

                                                           

  I was due to meet Neil off his flight from Toronto on the morning of Wednesday 20th April. I travelled to London the night before and stayed at a hotel near to Heathrow airport. I arrived in plenty of time, and parked the car in the short term parking. Enquiring at the information desk, I was told which gate to go to.  Don’t ask me why I didn’t just check with the TV screens for the arrival gate ? I watched, and waited as what seemed like an endless stream of passengers arrived. No Mr Peart. After half an hour or so, I began to get worried. There were no mobile phones in those days, and the Anthem offices wouldn’t be open for hours. Panic set in. I ran back to the information desk where I was told I had been given the wrong gate. With a sinking heart I rushed to the new location, and in vain searched for my colonial cousin. How could I have been so stupid ? My first assignment of the tour and I had failed miserably. Then, to my relief, I saw Neil pushing a trolley, nervously puffing on a ciggie, looking around for his driver.

I hurried over, said “hello” and explained what had happened. The poor guy was so confused by my non appearance he had bought some cigarettes, and started smoking again. Of course I wasn’t aware then that some of the Anthem bosses had questioned Neil’s sanity in employing an ex-criminal for this very important post. Poor Neil must have thought his worst night-mare had occurred. Had his old mate sold the car before the tour had even started, ? Or had I been arrested again, and even as he waited, was I languishing in some jail ? I think he was so relieved that I had eventually turned up, he forgot to give me the bollocking I truly deserved.
We loaded Neil’s cases into the car, and prepared to set off. Neil had recently been on holiday in Africa, and he told me, in a letter, their driver had only one tape which had been played continuously. Paul Simon’s “Graceland” As I started the engine that familiar sound came from the stereo. I had bought it as a joke. Neil looked at me, and smiled. He realized straight away what I had done, and why. However from then on all the music played on our travels would be his choice !
We were going to Manchester for the night, and then back down to the NEC  in Birmingham the next day. The rest of the band was staying at the Mayfair Inter Continental Hotel in London. We were soon into our usual routine of talking and travelling. As we past the M6 turn off from the M1, Neil asked if we should have taken that exit. Without any hesitation I replied “No, we are taking the scenic route”, and went on to explain we would cut across from the M1 to Manchester via Snakehead Pass. In fact I was so busy chatting, I had missed it all together !
The time flew by so quickly that I was amazed when we saw our turn off, we had alreday travelled over a hunderd miles. As we started to climb at the bottom of the pass, there was an articulated lorry in front of us. When we reached a straight piece of road, I pulled out to overtake but the driver had different ideas. He swerved across in front of us, and I was just able to stop before we were slammed into a stone wall. Neil was up, out of the open sun roof, hurling obscenities, and giving the errant driver the finger before the car was stationary. Once again I was aware that one little accident, which didn’t need to be my fault, and the whole European leg of the tour could be off.
We arrived safely in Manchester, and checked into the Ramada Renaissance Hotel on Deansgate. Neil, tired after his long flight, and car journey, said he was going to have an early night. I popped out for something to eat ( I was on a daily wage and expenses but this didn’t, apart from breakfast, include eating in the four and five star hotels we would be staying at ). When I returned I rang Chris and invited him to come for a drink. We met in the hotel bar. I think he was hoping Neil would make an appearance, so when I told him Neil was already in bed, he was a little disappointed. Once again Chris was in the same building as Neil but didn’t get to see him.
We only had a couple of drinks as the next day my job would start in earnest. I was about to find out what touring with a big rock band was really like, just what a Rush tour entailed. I couldn’t have envisaged this in my wildest dreams.
Neil gave me a couple of bits of good advice before the tour started. Bring plenty of reading material as there would be a lot of time spent hanging about hotels and venues. The second was to make sure I had a watch that kept good time. As previously stated, when I am working I consider myself to be a punctual person. I found out on this tour I had to be ! If Mr Peart said we would check out of a hotel at a certain time it had to be within a minute. That meant I had to be at reception checked out, when Neil arrived. The next morning I turned up at the allotted time to find him there, waiting for me. I wasn’t late, just not prepared for the boss to have already checked out, and expecting the same of me.
There has been a lot written about Neil feeling uncomfortable around fans. I found out on this first day he didn’t like to be kept waiting one second more than was necessary at a hotel reception as it left him vulnerable to the public.

We drove to Birmingham and found the NEC. Not an easy task as every turn off seemed to be for that place. We arrived in plenty of time for the 1-00 pm dead line sound check was at 2-00 pm.
 We drove through the security check point showing our passes, and then along a small road up to the rear doors. I now saw for the first time what a Rush tour meant in terms of vehicles, and personnel. Remember the last tine I had been involved with a band, all the gear, and musicians plus the roadie, were able to travel in a Ford Transit van.
There were three tour buses, six articulated lorries, and all sorts of people milling around. Add to this several vehicles for the film crew as the shows at the NEC were to be filmed, and you can imagine my amazement at this scene
I drove the BMW through the large open roller doors and into the back stage area. There seemed to be organized chaos every where. People like so many ants, swarming all over the place. Wide eyed I watched as this seemingly disorganized crowd went about their individual business. I was soon to realize each and everyone had a purpose and knew exactly what they and each other were doing.
Neil took me to the production office, the heartbeat of the shows, and introduced me to various members of the Rush hierarchy. Howard Ungerleider, tour manager and lighting director. Liam Birt, stage manager. Pegi Cecconi, a senior executive with Anthem and others. We then went into the stage area where I met more people involved with the tour. Larry Allen, Neil’s drum technician, Don Collins, head rigger, Tony Geranios, keyboard technician and George Steinert who was the stage carpenter. I also learned George worked for Neil while not touring, responsible for the maintenance at his house.
I was soon left to my own devices as Neil had things to do. If I had expected to just hang out with my old mate when he wasn’t actually working then I was in for a big surprise !
Neil in working mode is a totally different being to the guy I knew in London. He is ultra professional and, expects those around him to be the same. I guess the only time he is comfortable on a tour is when he is on stage playing. I know that also applied as we travelled together between shows. Being very comfortable in each others  company, and me not being very knowledgeable about music in general, and about Rush in particular, made it easier for Neil to relax. Once we were driving it was like the old days, two friends chatting, and the pressure of the tour forgotten. We rarely discussed the shows as I drove. I guess this was why I was offered the job in the first place.
I am not going to go into the NEC shows in detail as I am going to quote Chris Lea’s version. Not only is Chris’s memory of that time so much clearer than mine but he has much more awareness about Rush, and their equipment. Until Chris told me I couldn’t even recall that Neil, and I stayed in a different hotel to the others while in Birmingham. Those first few days of the ’88 tour really are just a blur. There was so much going on, so much new stuff to take in, and always at the back of my mind, once false move while driving, and the tour could be cancelled. I didn’t really start to enjoy it until we reached mainland Europe when I began to relax.
My head was spinning with my attempt to take it all in.
The tour had really started at last !

Thursday 22 November 2012





                                  Legends of Brocklehurst - Chapter 6

 

After some time, a few letters from Neil and endless talks with Chris, the next part of the adventure was to be revealed. I was to fly to Munich a few days before the tour started to pick up the tour car.
It was to be a 750i BMW !
I have stated in my roadie stories that logistics have always interested me and when I am working, I like to think I am professional. Armed with the information of which car we would be travelling in, I immediately visited my local BMW dealer. I explained to the head salesman the up coming tour and that I needed assistance acquainting myself with this model of BMW. I was amazed when I was told, not only did they not have one there, but there were only eight in the UK. Then I was told the car cost a cool £55 grand to buy. ( No wonder Neil hadn’t been interested in my friend’s second hand Audi ! ) However they did have a 730i in the showroom, and I was shown the salient features. The guy also said when I got back to Manchester; I should bring it to his showroom. For two reasons, one, the instructions would be in German and he could help me work them out. The second reason was to show him the car as he had never seen one.
I was now getting very excited, and not a little scared. What had I let myself in for ? The responsibility was beginning to become apparent. If Neil were to get injured due to one little mistake by me while driving, the tour could be cancelled. What would the Rush hierarchy and other members think of Neil’s choice of driver ? Apart from a few hours during his visit to Manchester, and my flying visit to London, I hadn’t seen Mr Peart for over fifteen years.
For a few days I seriously doubted my ability to do such a challenging job. Then with Chris’s help, common sense prevailed. It was only driving, and in a wonderful motor car with a valued friend. I had always enjoyed every mile we had driven together in the old days, why should that be any different now ?
Neil had suggested that I get a route organised so I contacted the AA. Although I wasn’t a member I talked the young lady into preparing one and sending it to me. I already knew we would be mainly driving at night after the shows. This meant that although there were some fairly long trips the roads would be quieter. I have always loved driving long distances at night and this would only add to the adventure.
As the time to collect the car got closer I was instructed to attend the offices of an accountant to collect a £1000 expenses for our trip. I was quite surprised to see the company was located less than a mile from where I lived in Didsbury. I went at the allotted time, and was handed the money in an envelope. Did the powers that be at Anthem know what they were doing ? I was an inveterate gambler and I could see a Ladbrokes betting shop as I came out of the accountant’s office. Wouldn’t be the best of starts if I blew some or all the readies on a couple of slow horses !
Somehow I resisted the temptation. The thought of letting Neil down plus losing the exciting prospect of working on the tour overcame my natural tendency to gamble. Funnily enough it made me realize, for the first time for ages, I didn’t have to throw away my money as soon as I got it. Although I was still to bet in the years to come, this was the beginning of some control in the gambling stakes. Something I have under reasonable restraint these days. Another thing to thank Neil for, I guess.
The next to arrive by post was my flight tickets and a letter letting me know which hotel I would stay at and telling me the car would be delivered there the next morning.
On Thursday 14th April, 1988, I flew from Manchester to Munich and settled in at my hotel. I must confess I didn’t sleep much that night. Even to this day, I am still like a little kid the day before any exciting event. It can never come quickly enough. I was up bright and early, breakfasted and sitting in the foyer awaiting the delivery of the BMW.
The car should have been there for 9-30 am, but by eleven o’clock nothing had happened. I rang the number in Munich given to me by Anthem in case of emergencies, and explained the car hadn’t been delivered. I was told they would chase it up for me. About thirty minutes later a guy came in. I heard him asking for me by name at reception so I introduced myself. He just sort of grunted and walked back out of the hotel, gesturing me to follow him. He led me to a beautiful large, sleek, black BMW, pointed to the keys in the ignition and promptly disappeared.
£55 grand worth of motor and I didn’t even have to sign for it..
I found out later that the German promoters had bought the car to rent to Anthem just for the tour. It was brand new and only had nine kilometers on the clock.
I slowly got into the drivers seat and marvelled at the leather interior and dashboard that resembled the cock pit of a plane rather than a car. This was a serious tool.
I thought I had already worked out how to get out of Munich so I started the engine, fiddled with seat controls, and slowly moved away. It had an automatic gear box so all I had to do was steer it and ease into the traffic. After only a short while I was lost, not seeing any recognizable signs, I parked the car got out and asked directions. Immediately I restarted the car, a message appeared on the dash. I had been told by the guy at the BMW dealership in Manchester, if this happened to stop the car straight away. Of course it was in German so I hadn’t a clue what it said. As I started to panic I saw a sign for a BMW garage. I pulled onto the fore court and explained my problem to a mechanic. The guy looked into the car, started to laugh and told me the message said “Your door is open”. Relief just poured over me. I thought the tour was over after just a couple of miles. Then I saw the funny side and burst out laughing.
The rest of the journey back to England was fairly routine, if that is how I can describe driving the car of my dreams at high speeds across Europe. The BMW 750i is a remarkable car. I loved every mile I was to travel in it.
The only slight hitch came after driving off the ferry at Dover. My seat started to get warmer and warmer. I realized the seat heater had been switched on, but had no idea how to turn it off. I stopped and looked at the manual but as it was written in German it was of no help. I had to suffer the trip to Manchester with me getting hotter and hotter. Even with all the windows open it was almost unbearable. Eventually I arrived in Didsbury with sweat running down my back and my shirt wringing wet, stuck to me.
I now had a few days with the BMW before I was due at Heathrow on Wednesday to pick Neil up. I felt like a king driving round Manchester. Everywhere I went people looked at the car. After taking it to the BMW dealership where all the staff and mechanics came out to inspect it and getting as much info as I could ( the troublesome heated seat was soon switched off ), I made arrangements to pick Chris up at his home that Friday night.
Chris has no interest what so ever in cars but even he couldn’t fail to be impressed. After showing off to the evening revellers in Didsbury ( I think Chris had a Rush tape blaring from the stereo ) we headed for the M62 ( now the M60 ) and I opened the beast up. It was governed at 155 mph, but would sit at that speed all day. Of course I was aware of the up coming tour and the need to be careful, so drove with control. It was so safe at high speeds it was a pleasure to put my foot down. We came off the motorway and headed to a pub in Whalley Range where my old friend Rodney Warr, an old friend drank. As I showed the car to Rodney, all the guys from the boozer came out. Almost like magic there was a crowd that increased to around fifty as people came to look at it, asking all kinds of technical questions and requesting the bonnet be opened so the engine could be seen in all its glory.
On Sunday I decided to drive the 120 miles to Carlisle in order to show the car to my friends and family there. At the slipway to the motorway there were three people hitchhiking. I have done a lot of hitching myself over the years, and though I probably shouldn’t, even to this day I still give lifts when possible. To their amazement this large BMW slowed to a stop and I offered them a lift. There were two boys and a girl. They were travelling to Glasgow. During the journey I found out one of the reasons they were going there was to see Rush at the Glasgow SEC ( now the SECC ). I couldn’t help myself, I had to tell them this was the car that Neil would be travelling in for the duration of the tour. At first they were incredulous and very sceptical, but soon saw I was serious. It transpired they didn’t have tickets but were hoping to buy some at the venue. Apparently this was unlikely as it was sell-out. I had been told by Neil if I needed any tickets, for friends, or for staff from the various hotels, then there would be some available. Being the flash git that I am, I told them I may be able to arrange something. When I dropped them at the Carlisle turn off, I said I would meet them outside the main entrance of the SEC two hours before the show. A promise I kept along with their free tickets, much to the amazement of those three Rush fans.
Like everyone else who I showed the 750i to, my friends in Carlisle were astounded. It was such a beautiful, stunning vehicle I had to pinch myself every time I saw it, to believe I was really driving such a class car.
I returned to Manchester early the next morning, revelling in the almost deserted motorway and doing the trip in record time for me.
 The tour wasn't far away now !

Wednesday 14 November 2012

       Legends of Brocklehurst - Chapter 5

 

Later that year, probably in the summer, the Barleycorn social club went on a boozy weekend trip to the Isle of Man, a small island off the N. W. of England. There was around forty of us including regulars and staff.
On the Saturday evening I was sat in the hotel bar with the rest of our group. Chris Lea was beside me and Bernie Dwyer ( the old Freddie and the Dreamers drummer ) a couple of seats away. Chris’s version is slightly different to mine, but I defer to his excellent memory. I knew Chris was a graphic designer, and some how in the conversation I mentioned I knew someone who had got in trouble who designed album covers, Neil had told me Hugh Syme, the guy responsible for their album artwork, had been jailed for fraud. Neil seems to have a few good friends who fell foul of the law !
When Chris asked me who I was referring to, I told him. Immediately Chris’s attitude changed. He seemed suspicious that I had even heard of Hugh Syme. Bernie, being the loveable rogue he was, caught on, and started to wind Chris up by asking me who else I knew from Canada. By now Bernie was aware that Chris was into Rush, but not to what degree.
Sensing there could be a laugh to be had, but not sure why, I went on to tell Chris, I didn’t know the unfortunate Mr. Syme, but was an old friend of the group’s drummer. Convinced now that this was a wind up, probably instigated by his work mates who knew of his love of all things Rush, and were on the trip. Chris started to ask me questions. Like what the drummer was called ? “Neil Peart”,  I replied pronouncing it correctly. What were the names of their albums etc? I couldn’t name one, but assured him I was telling the truth. More questions bombarded me, but the clincher was when Chris asked me if Neil wrote to me, and if so what was special about the writing paper. My reply floored him.
“The paper has from “The desk of Neil Peart” printed on the top”, I answered. Apparently year’s earlier, letters to a magazine from Neil, had shown this to be true.
Mr Lea totally bewildered, but now convinced I really did know this god of rock, just sat there in disbelief, shaking his head. Bernie, with perfect timing, then went on to drop the bomb shell, not only had he met Neil in Manchester earlier that year, but they had had a drink in the Barleycorn. To make matters even worse he added that Chris had been in the pub on the night in question, and had only been a few feet away from Neil. Chris’s face was a picture.

Crestfallen, distraught, unbelieving and in a total state of shock the poor guy just kept repeating “Never, never, I can’t believe it, Neil Peart was in my pub, AND I was there without knowing”
Ironically this bit of good natured leg pulling was to have a profound effect on Chris’s life in the future .
After a couple of stiff drinks and a little time Chris pulled himself together and went on to tell me just how brilliant and successful a band Rush were. He also told me my old mate was one of the best rock drummers in the world, if not the best. Now it was my turn to be gob smacked. Chris reeled off album after album. The fact that Rush were extraordinarily highly regarded in rock circles the world over was beginning to sink in. We talked, and drank into the early hours, oblivious to the rest of our party. I wanted to know every little detail about Neil and his band.
When Chris eventually went to bed that Sunday morning, he could be heard mumbling “Neil Peart was in my pub”, shaking his head in disbelief. I in turn could hardly take in just what my colonial cousin had achieved,
Neil and I kept in touch over the next year or so. He sent me all sorts of printed matter about the band, a brochure of The Chalet Studio, where they recorded, and kept me up to date with their progress. Copies of Drummer magazine, where not only was he a regular writer, but also had his picture on one of the covers. My friend really was a rock star. In return I kept Neil up to date with my life, and my criminal enterprises. By now I was involved in a crime called L F's. Long firm fraud, which is company fraud aimed at building up maximum credit, then disappearing leaving unpaid accounts. For obvious reasons I couldn't go into too many details, so in some ways Neil wasn't totally aware of the level of criminality I was operating at.
In the meantime on arrival home from The Isle of Man, Chris came round to my flat laden with Rush albums, and over a period of weeks we listened to them with Chris explaining all he could about each song. To be honest, the music wasn’t my cup of tea, and I found a lot of it very heavy going. But my friend was playing the drums and had written the words, so I had an avid interest from that point of view.
Each time Neil wrote he always finished by writing “say hello to Bernie”. In my letters I told of this guy in Manchester who was a big fan, and was kindly leading me through their music. Also knowing Neil’s wonderful sense of humour, I related the story of that night in The Isle of Man when Bernie, and I had wound Chris up, and his reaction to realizing Neil had been in the Barleycorn without Chris knowing.
With typical Peart humour, and loving the story, Neil in one of his missives added to his usual “hello to Bernie,” “and say hi to Chris “ When I showed this to Chris, his reaction was priceless. I could never have believed those few words could have meant so much. I suspect Neil did, and typical of the man, that was probably why he wrote them.
Neil and Chris are very similar in many ways. Both have artistic ability, and interest in most things connected to art. Both have excellent recall. Very funny guys who once they have decided you are a friend, then it is for life. Unlike many people I know they also accept my many mistakes in life, and are not judgemental about my criminal past. I gauge my friends by how I feel when we meet. Whether I saw them last week, or many months or even years ago, I always get a warm feeling meeting certain people. These two are very high on that particular list.
Oh, and did I forget to say they both play the drums?
Also they were to have a very tragic time in their lives within a few months of each other.
The trans Atlantic mail continued to flow. I felt very sorry for Neil having to try and decipher my atrocious hand writing, but he seemed to do so without too much complaint. No word processor for me in those days. One morning sometime in 1987, I received a telegram from Neill. Rush were touring Canada, and North America, and he wanted me to ring him in America. The person I had to ask for was called, Hank Kimble.
I made the call, asked for Mr. Kimble, and was put through. Not really knowing what to say I sort of mumbled that Neil Peart had asked me to speak to this guy Kimble. A recognizable laugh boomed down the phone as Neil announced he was Mr. Kimble. This was the name he was using on the tour as not to be bothered by fans. A ploy I was to find out was used by all three members of Rush while on the road. After a little small talk ( I said Neil wasn’t one for talking on the phone, ) he announced that Rush were to tour Great Britain, and Europe the coming spring, and would I be interested in some work ? I said “yes” and with no more ado Neil told me the details would be posted to me, bade farewell and hung up.
As I sat there reflecting what I may have let myself in for, I felt sure I was too old for humping gear around, I thought of Chris. We arranged to meet in the Barleycorn that evening, and I told him of my news. Understandably his first reaction was he would see his favourite band again. Then he got excited for me as well. We sat drinking and trying to guess what my duties would be, where they would play, and a hundred other thoughts on this news. Over the next few weeks Chris, and I spent a lot of time trying to work out where Rush would play, how many shows, and how long “my tour” would be.
I then had a letter from Neil telling me my job in fact was to drive him independently of the rest of the band. While Alex, Geddy, and the main players of the Rush entourage would either travel by limo, train, or fly, we were to do the whole trip by road. Neil and I would be travelling together in a car. The financial arrangements were Neil could spend half of Alex and Geddy’s expenses on his travel expenses. This was to be the first time Neil had travelled independently of the others while touring anywhere.
Now I got really excited, the thought of us driving possibly thousands of miles together would just be like an improved version of those old days. Mr Peart’s thinking was we could travel in a “smallish saloon”, while Alex and Geddy were chauffeur driven in a limo, and thus avoid the attention of the fans. I knew a guy who had a fairly new Audi. I suggested to Neil we could maybe hire it for the duration of the tour. For some reason that idea got no reply in the next letter I received
I was soon to find out why.
A few days later a package arrived in the post. It had a booklet in with all the tour locations, which hotels we would stay in. All the information was there about each venue, and when Neil and I ( and the others ) would be travelling, and how.
On the front it said
Rush Hold Your Fire Tour ‘88 Europe & UK
The dates were as follows.
April
Thurs. 21st NEC Birmingham
Sat, 23rd NEC Birmingham
Sun. 24th NEC Birmingham
Tues, 26th SEC Glasgow
Thur. 28th Wembley Arena, London
Fri. 29th Wembley Arena, London
Sat. 30th, Wembley Arena, London
May
Mon. 2nd Ahoy Sportshall Rotterdam
Wed 4th Festhalle, Frankfurt
Thur. 5th Hans Martin Schleyer Hall, Stuttgart.

Three nights in the NEC, three nights at Wembley arena, just how big are these guys?
I would find out in April.


Thursday 8 November 2012

Ed Stenger sensibly suggested I put each chapter as a new post saving readers scrolling down all the time. didn't know I could do that. Thanks again, Ed.

 

                               Legends of Brocklehurst - Chapter 4

It was a long letter getting me up to date with his life since we had last met.On the first page Neil wrote. 
" How wonderful to hear from you, how terrible to hear from you where you are ! I hope you are serving your incarceration with your sense of humour intact. I am glad to hear a modest post card could do you some good in there as I will never forget your generosity ( how I appreciated and needed those occasional " fivers " you pressed upon me )  Not to mention your refusal to consider my request to get involved in your clandestine occupations. Fear of destitution will remove any principals of ethics and morals. I certainly learned that and but for your open heartedness I may have ended up where you are now. No condescension meant here, as I say it could easily have been me, more than once it has been the lack of nerve that has kept me honest. " 
My request for a few signed post cards was also answered. However when it came to the geezer who was such a fan that he changed his name, Neil wrote “I am glad my father never named me after one of his favourites like Frank or Bing. Remember fan is short for fanatic, and a fanatic shot John Lennon. Keep this guy away from me “ There was no signed post card for Mr. Rush !
For those who know of Neil’s “letters to Brutus”, another friend of his who also ended up in prison, you will realize what a wonderful writer of letters Neil is, and how his script cheered me up.
When I was released from prison I returned to Manchester, and was able to write some longer letters to Neil. In prison I had been limited to four sides of fairly small paper. Neil’s excellently written scripts, over a period of time, changed from being hand written to being printed on a word processor. I seem to recall some of the early ones being in a peculiar purple colour. I was slowly becoming aware that Rush were a very successful band. To quote Mr. Peart “We have been successful on our own terms, which is nice” I understood this to mean they only recorded material they had written. I had also discovered that my old mate was responsible for the lyrics to their music.

Some time during the next year, I guess around May 1985, I heard from Neil that Rush were visiting England to do some recording at the Manor Studio in Oxford. (Power Windows ?) He also informed me that he would like to travel up to Manchester one Saturday, and spend an evening with Jackie, and I. At last I was to meet my old friend. I have to admit I was very excited, not that he was now a member of a recording band, but just the thought of seeing my lanky Canadian friend again.

The day eventually arrived. I stood in Piccadilly train station wondering if I would recognize him after all those years. Would he have all the trappings of a rock star? Adorned with long hair, and wild clothes? We recognized each other immediately. However Neil looked nothing like your typical rock musician. He had very short hair, baggy dark trousers, and a light blue kagool. We hugged each other, smiled a little nervously, but within minutes it felt like we had never been apart. A situation that would manifest itself each time we were to meet, no matter how long it had been since we had last seen each other.
We drove back to my flat in an old van I had borrowed. Neil told me what a pleasure it had been to travel on a train, and no one knew who he was. Something, he said, wouldn’t be possible back home in Toronto. I couldn’t help wondering if he was slightly over stating his band’s popularity. We arrived at my ground floor flat, and Neil met my live in girl friend, Jackie. I had previously told him that the basement flat was inhabited by a 60’s pop drummer. A guy called Bernie Dwyer who had played with Freddie and the Dreamers. After getting up to date with what had been happening in each others lives, Neil announced he would like to take us for a meal that night. However he seemed to be very interested to meet Bernie. I suggested we popped down to my local pub, The Barleycorn, where I knew Bernie would be. True to form Bernie was sat on his usual stool by the bar holding court. He was a lovely, lovely guy with a wicked sense of humour. Generous to a fault but not guy you would  take liberties with. Bernie could look after himself. Sadly he passed away a few years ago. Amazingly Neil seemed a little in awe of this 60’s pop star, but Bernie soon made him very welcome, and they got on like a house on fire, swapping tales of touring with bands. Once again Neil said how good it was to be able to have a drink, and relax without being bothered by fans. Again I thought this was a little over the top. As far as I knew, no one in the pub had even heard of Rush, never mind knew what Neil looked like.
I couldn’t have been more wrong ! A very good friend of mine called Chris Lea was a massive fan. I had no idea at the time, and Chris, who was in The Barleycorn that evening hadn’t a clue his hero was stood by the bar. I saw Chris a couple of times but thought maybe because I was in company he didn’t come over. Chris remembers the situation rather differently. He says he can’t recall seeing the four of us, but even if he had, the thought that Neil Peart could possibly be in his local, would never have crossed his mind.

I will tell more of that later in this story.
We had an enjoyable meal at a small inexpensive local restaurant that I chose. I often wondered in later years when I found out just how wealthy Neil was, what he thought of my choice.We returned to our flat, and had a drink as we reminisced. We had only one bed room, but Neil insisted he would be alright sleeping on a single mattress in the living room. As Jackie and I went to bed we left this famous drummer reading a book. I was to find out later Neil was a prolific reader, and very knowledgeable about all sorts of authors and their history. I still wasn’t aware that one of the best rock drummers in the world was curled up on my living room floor. The next day after breakfast, rather than let Neil travel by train, I drove him back to Oxford in the borrowed van. This was the reason I had borrowed it so we could travel back to the recording studio. It was just like the old days, my Canadian friend, and I travelling along the motorways. Nothing had changed, we talked all the way there, and Neil acted as navigator in the latter stages.
The Manor studio was a lot different to the tiny one English Rose had used back those days in London. It was set in its own grounds, and was an impressive old building. Richard Branson was the owner, and it was interesting to hear the staff say when he visited the studio, he knew all their names and chatted with them. A story I was to hear many times over the years with his various companies.

Neil was recording that afternoon so he asked if I would like to hang around, and watch. He also introduced me to the other two members of Rush, Alex Lifeson and Geddy Lee, plus some people connected with the band. Just before he started recording Neil gave me a cheque as repayment for those odd fivers I had given in him London all those years ago. I won't say what the amount was but the rate of interest was much more than I would have got from a bank ! I stayed a while but as Neil was working, and it wasn't really my kind of music, I said my goodbyes, and headed home to Manchester.

Later that year Rush came back over to London to, I think, mix the new album. I am not sure but maybe it was at a studio called Sarne Street East. I travelled down to London, and we had a wonderful meal in a little French restaurant. That was one occasion when I hoped to spend all evening with Neil but he had to back in the studio by around ten, so our evening ended a little early for me.
The telephone has never been Neil’s favoured mode of contact, I have only spoken to him by phone a few times in all the years we have known each other, but we kept in touch regularly by post over the next few months.. No internet in those days.





                                             Legends of Brocklehurst - Chapter 5

 

Later that year, probably in the summer, the Barleycorn social club went on a boozy weekend trip to the Isle of Man, a small island off the N. W. of England. There was around forty of us including regulars and staff.
On the Saturday evening I was sat in the hotel bar with the rest of our group. Chris Lea was beside me and Bernie Dwyer ( the old Freddie and the Dreamers drummer ) a couple of seats away. Chris’s version is slightly different to mine, but I defer to his excellent memory. I knew Chris was a graphic designer, and some how in the conversation I mentioned I knew someone who had got in trouble who designed album covers, Neil had told me Hugh Syme, the guy responsible for their album artwork, had been jailed for fraud. Neil seems to have a few good friends who fell foul of the law !
When Chris asked me who I was referring to, I told him. Immediately Chris’s attitude changed. He seemed suspicious that I had even heard of Hugh Syme. Bernie, being the loveable rogue he was, caught on, and started to wind Chris up by asking me who else I knew from Canada. By now Bernie was aware that Chris was into Rush, but not to what degree.
Sensing there could be a laugh to be had, but not sure why, I went on to tell Chris, I didn’t know the unfortunate Mr. Syme, but was an old friend of the group’s drummer. Convinced now that this was a wind up, probably instigated by his work mates who knew of his love of all things Rush, and were on the trip. Chris started to ask me questions. Like what the drummer was called ? “Neil Peart”,  I replied pronouncing it correctly. What were the names of their albums etc? I couldn’t name one, but assured him I was telling the truth. More questions bombarded me, but the clincher was when Chris asked me if Neil wrote to me, and if so what was special about the writing paper. My reply floored him.
“The paper has from “The desk of Neil Peart” printed on the top”, I answered. Apparently year’s earlier, letters to a magazine from Neil, had shown this to be true.
Mr Lea totally bewildered, but now convinced I really did know this god of rock, just sat there in disbelief, shaking his head. Bernie, with perfect timing, then went on to drop the bomb shell, not only had he met Neil in Manchester earlier that year, but they had had a drink in the Barleycorn. To make matters even worse he added that Chris had been in the pub on the night in question, and had only been a few feet away from Neil. Chris’s face was a picture.

Crestfallen, distraught, unbelieving and in a total state of shock the poor guy just kept repeating “Never, never, I can’t believe it, Neil Peart was in my pub, AND I was there without knowing”
Ironically this bit of good natured leg pulling was to have a profound effect on Chris’s life in the future .
After a couple of stiff drinks and a little time Chris pulled himself together and went on to tell me just how brilliant and successful a band Rush were. He also told me my old mate was one of the best rock drummers in the world, if not the best. Now it was my turn to be gob smacked. Chris reeled off album after album. The fact that Rush were extraordinarily highly regarded in rock circles the world over was beginning to sink in. We talked, and drank into the early hours, oblivious to the rest of our party. I wanted to know every little detail about Neil and his band.
When Chris eventually went to bed that Sunday morning, he could be heard mumbling “Neil Peart was in my pub”, shaking his head in disbelief. I in turn could hardly take in just what my colonial cousin had achieved,
Neil and I kept in touch over the next year or so. He sent me all sorts of printed matter about the band, a brochure of The Chalet Studio, where they recorded, and kept me up to date with their progress. Copies of Drummer magazine, where not only was he a regular writer, but also had his picture on one of the covers. My friend really was a rock star. In return I kept Neil up to date with my life, and my criminal enterprises. By now I was involved in a crime called L F's. Long firm fraud, which is company fraud aimed at building up maximum credit, then disappearing leaving unpaid accounts. For obvious reasons I couldn't go into too many details, so in some ways Neil wasn't totally aware of the level of criminality I was operating at.
In the meantime on arrival home from The Isle of Man, Chris came round to my flat laden with Rush albums, and over a period of weeks we listened to them with Chris explaining all he could about each song. To be honest, the music wasn’t my cup of tea, and I found a lot of it very heavy going. But my friend was playing the drums and had written the words, so I had an avid interest from that point of view.
Each time Neil wrote he always finished by writing “say hello to Bernie”. In my letters I told of this guy in Manchester who was a big fan, and was kindly leading me through their music. Also knowing Neil’s wonderful sense of humour, I related the story of that night in The Isle of Man when Bernie, and I had wound Chris up, and his reaction to realizing Neil had been in the Barleycorn without Chris knowing.
With typical Peart humour, and loving the story, Neil in one of his missives added to his usual “hello to Bernie,” “and say hi to Chris “ When I showed this to Chris, his reaction was priceless. I could never have believed those few words could have meant so much. I suspect Neil did, and typical of the man, that was probably why he wrote them.
Neil and Chris are very similar in many ways. Both have artistic ability, and interest in most things connected to art. Both have excellent recall. Very funny guys who once they have decided you are a friend, then it is for life. Unlike many people I know they also accept my many mistakes in life, and are not judgemental about my criminal past. I gauge my friends by how I feel when we meet. Whether I saw them last week, or many months or even years ago, I always get a warm feeling meeting certain people. These two are very high on that particular list.
Oh, and did I forget to say they both play the drums?
Also they were to have a very tragic time in their lives within a few months of each other.
The trans Atlantic mail continued to flow. I felt very sorry for Neil having to try and decipher my atrocious hand writing, but he seemed to do so without too much complaint. No word processor for me in those days. One morning sometime in 1987, I received a telegram from Neill. Rush were touring Canada, and North America, and he wanted me to ring him in America. The person I had to ask for was called, Hank Kimble.
I made the call, asked for Mr. Kimble, and was put through. Not really knowing what to say I sort of mumbled that Neil Peart had asked me to speak to this guy Kimble. A recognizable laugh boomed down the phone as Neil announced he was Mr. Kimble. This was the name he was using on the tour as not to be bothered by fans. A ploy I was to find out was used by all three members of Rush while on the road. After a little small talk ( I said Neil wasn’t one for talking on the phone, ) he announced that Rush were to tour Great Britain, and Europe the coming spring, and would I be interested in some work ? I said “yes” and with no more ado Neil told me the details would be posted to me, bade farewell and hung up.
As I sat there reflecting what I may have let myself in for, I felt sure I was too old for humping gear around, I thought of Chris. We arranged to meet in the Barleycorn that evening, and I told him of my news. Understandably his first reaction was he would see his favourite band again. Then he got excited for me as well. We sat drinking and trying to guess what my duties would be, where they would play, and a hundred other thoughts on this news. Over the next few weeks Chris, and I spent a lot of time trying to work out where Rush would play, how many shows, and how long “my tour” would be.
I then had a letter from Neil telling me my job in fact was to drive him independently of the rest of the band. While Alex, Geddy, and the main players of the Rush entourage would either travel by limo, train, or fly, we were to do the whole trip by road. Neil and I would be travelling together in a car. The financial arrangements were Neil could spend half of Alex and Geddy’s expenses on his travel expenses. This was to be the first time Neil had travelled independently of the others while touring anywhere.
Now I got really excited, the thought of us driving possibly thousands of miles together would just be like an improved version of those old days. Mr Peart’s thinking was we could travel in a “smallish saloon”, while Alex and Geddy were chauffeur driven in a limo, and thus avoid the attention of the fans. I knew a guy who had a fairly new Audi. I suggested to Neil we could maybe hire it for the duration of the tour. For some reason that idea got no reply in the next letter I received
I was soon to find out why.
A few days later a package arrived in the post. It had a booklet in with all the tour locations, which hotels we would stay in. All the information was there about each venue, and when Neil and I ( and the others ) would be travelling, and how.
On the front it said
Rush Hold Your Fire Tour ‘88 Europe & UK
The dates were as follows.
April
Thurs. 21st NEC Birmingham
Sat, 23rd NEC Birmingham
Sun. 24th NEC Birmingham
Tues, 26th SEC Glasgow
Thur. 28th Wembley Arena, London
Fri. 29th Wembley Arena, London
Sat. 30th, Wembley Arena, London
May
Mon. 2nd Ahoy Sportshall Rotterdam
Wed 4th Festhalle, Frankfurt
Thur. 5th Hans Martin Schleyer Hall, Stuttgart.

Three nights in the NEC, three nights at Wembley arena, just how big are these guys?
I would find out in April.


I have posted two chapters this time as I have commitments next week, so there won't be another post for a fornight.