On the verge of going to Canada, and my first trip into the big town of Toronto, I keep having the same three musical daydreams.
1. As the flight passes into Canadian air, the flight attendants confuse me, Enrico Pallazzo-style, with a great Canadian tenor. They ask me to sing O Canada over the cabin PA system as we cross the border. Although not Enrico Pallazzo, I perform an astounding rendition that leaves cabin and crew none the wiser.
2. After waiting in line for hours gets me front row-center at the Springsteen show in Toronto, Bruce sees me, confuses me with Canadian pop star “Mitchell McAndrews” and invites me onstage to sing a song with him. True, I don’t look like a pop star, but I’m in Canada. I’ve never heard of this Mitchell McAndrews either, but the name certainly sounds a Canadian pop star’s.
As I try to tell Bruce I’m not the guy, either he hears me through the crowd noise on stage and has me pretend like I am the guy, or I finally get through to him after the show. He, Pats and the rest of the gang have a big laugh. My working for a news organzation is briefly concerning until I’m able to convince them I’m not a reporter. The moment passes, and we move on to wondering whether there actually is a Mitchell McAndrews or not. No matter, our trading leads on some song of a rock-ish nature is what everyone’s talking about in Springsteen world about the next day.
3. Nodding to the Rolling Stones’ amazing tour warm-up gigs in Toronto clubs, I am talked into Canadian karaoke and perform an awesome version of Biggie’s Kick in the Door that as I chant the chorus becomes the Stones’ Heartbreaker, creating both social commentary and awesomeness.