Waging Heavy Peace by Neil Young Read Free Book Online

(By the way, her real name was Edna, but her daddy nicknamed her Rassy.) While we lived in Winnipeg, she had supplied her little car for all the Squires’ gigs up to that time, allowed us to practice in the living room of our little flat, even lent me money to buy my instruments and amps when my dad wouldn’t because of my terrible school grades. Once she took me over to a relative’s house with my amp and guitar and had me play “Malagueña” for them because she thought I was so great. I didn’t even know the song, but I loved to improvise on the chord changes, which I thought were genius.
    She got really pissed when my dad did not help me buy my instruments. When my dad’s book
Neil and Me
came out in 1984, she was incredulous beyond description! She would quote from the book and then say, “Oh, for God’s sake, what a load of shit!” noting that he didn’t have any relationship with me compared to her and had done nothing to support my musical life.
    She never forgave him for leaving us. I did.
    Anyway, when I arrived at the place where the hearse was supposed to be, behind a wire fence, there was a gated area where two identical hearses were parked. The only real difference between the two was that one had a blue interior and the other had a burgundy interior. The interiors I am referring to are the inside velvet trim in the back of the hearses. The exteriors were wild! They were at least eight inches taller in the hood than a normal Roadmaster, and they were very long. The wheelbase was 156 inches. The name
Flxible
was on the side of the front fender. Two 1948 Buick Roadmasters that had been custom-built as hearses! I loved them.
    In the back there were really nice curtains and a headliner of plush velvet with pull-down shades,
and there was a sliding divider window between the front and the back. There were rollers on the floor for moving the caskets easily in and out of the back through a gigantic rear door. What could be better than that? Perfect for rolling amps and PA in and out, sleeping and storing equipment, I thought to myself. The price was $125 for either one.
    They were both in good running condition. (That was the thing about hearses; they were always in good shape because of what they were used for.) I made a choice. The blue interior was the best, so I took that one. Rassy paid the bill. Thank you, Mom! I couldn’t believe my good fortune. I was high as a kite! At the first gig with Mort, I felt like the Squires had a new identity. The hearse was an amazing attention-getter, and that is what being in a band needs. When you get to a gig, you got to be cool. We were the coolest thing in town with Mort. No one else had anything like that. Nothing they had could touch it.
    Of course, Pam Smith’s dad was not so sure about it when I pulled up in front of their house in the residential area where they lived. The neighbors all thought that someone had died. Pam was my steady girlfriend, my first real love. We went together for about a year, maybe less, as I remember it, a long time for someone that age. I saw a recent picture of her a while back, and she still is beautiful today. She was wearing a flannel shirt in that photo that looked like the same kind I love to wear. Even after I left Winnipeg, my thoughts kept coming back to Pam, and occasionally I would send her long rambling letters, which she did not answer, probably not knowing what to say. Long and short of it is, she was my first real love, my first companion of that kind, someone I could talk to, and as with old friends there is always going to be a warm feeling there. Sending good thoughts to you, Pam.
    Today I have a hearse identical to Mort, given to me by Taylor Phelps’s partner, who said Taylor wanted me to have it when he died. I drove Taylor to his funeral in it. That car is in
Year of the Horse
, a cool film about Crazy Horse that Jim Jarmusch did. That film is very special to me because it has my dad in it. I loved my dad, and