California Solo Page #2

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And it's like, every year

I dread coming to this thing.

And then I get here and I see

my kids and the parade

and I'm just, you know...

Hey, I'm...

I'm sorry, man.

Oh.

Not at all, Warren.

That's an absolutely

beautiful sentiment, brother.

Cheers.

Welcome to another

edition of "Flame-Outs".

The show where we

discuss the tragic

and sometimes

spectacular deaths

of the world's greatest

musicians.

I am your host,

Lachlan MacAldonich.

Tonight, Marc Bolan,

of T. Rex.

Back in the 1970's this guy was

the biggest star in the UK.

Immensely talented.

His car hit a tree

outside London

when he was just shy of 30.

His poor wife was driving.

Some would say that

Marc Bolan truly met his end

nine days previously when,

during his

last public appearance,

he slipped and fell over

on the TV

in front of millions.

His old pal, David Bowie,

standing there beside

him laughing,

already well on

his way to a lifetime

of Ziggy stardom.

But, this broadcast

is about tragedy.

And what could

be more tragic in the annals

of British Rock than

Marc Bolan?

A rocker with

a genuinely good heart

who became all flabby

and egotistical.

Man, he broke some

hearts back in the day.

Including mine.

I must have listened to

this record at least

But hey, I promised I wouldn't

talk about myself

on "Flame-Outs" until

I'm actually dead.

So, in the meantime,

let's just stick to Marc Bolan.

# I love a girl

she is a changeless angel #

# She's a city it's a pity

that I'm like me yeah #

# I said how can I lay

when all I do is play #

# The spaceball ricochet

# I'm just a man

I understand the wind #

# And all the things that

make the children cry #

# With my Les Paul

I know I'm small #

Tell me about your

prior conviction.

Well, it's all a bit

of a blur now, really.

More than fifteen years ago.

But I was getting on a plane,

next thing you know,

I'm getting taken in for grass.

Drugs.

Yeah.

Had them in my bag.

Stupid.

Anyway, I was in a

band at the time.

And our manager, he sorted it.

He... No more than a

speeding ticket,

he said at the time.

Yeah, you got a good manager.

Uh, what kind of visa

were you on?

I don't remember.

H-1-B?

"Extraordinary ability",

something like that, yeah.

Oh, those are tough to get.

I know.

You wouldn't think to

look at me now.

- Wow.

- Yeah.

Well, look, uh, all right.

Here's the issue as I see

it right now, okay?

Um, under

current immigration law,

both the DUI and possibly this

prior drug conviction

count as

violations of moral turpitude.

I- I'm sorry

to interrupt you, um,

I'm just a bit confused about

the immigration side of this.

I've got a green card.

I mean, surely that means

I'm practically a citizen here.

No.

Not at all.

You can face removal

proceedings whether you have

a green card or not.

It doesn't matter.

Sh*t.

Look...

No offense to anyone, you know.

But I ain't a terrorist.

I'm not a drug mule.

Uh, I'm a moderately

lazy Scotsman.

I just... I just want to live

out the rest of my days

in this lovely

land I've called my home

for the last 12 years.

I can help you.

Good, great.

How much do I owe you?

Well, in these cases I

normally work on an hourly rate.

But I think in your case it's

more cost effective

to go with a flat fee.

Right, okay.

How much is that?

$5,000.

Half up front and, uh, half

when we're done.

Oh, it's Lachlan.

Hey, Wendell!

Look at you, man!

Look at your hair.

Well, that's the music

business, isn't it?

- Good to see you.

- It's good to see you, man.

- How you been?

- I've been well.

- I've been well, yeah.

- Fantastic, okay.

Oh, God, you know, I was in

London last week.

I was at this event with

like Mick and Rod Stewart,

all of them,

and all they could talk

about, Lachlan,

was how f***ed

the music business is.

Poor Mick, probably taken

the scrambled flamingo eggs

off the rider.

- Flamingo egg whites, mate.

- Oh, yeah.

Very fit bastard.

Makes Iggy look fat.

For sure.

How you doin', you all right?

Yeah, I'm well, I'm well.

Not playing so much anymore.

No rolling stone, I'm afraid,

too much moss.

But I'm keeping busy.

Doing a lot of

broadcasting at the moment.

Good, good.

Well, it's a podcast,

in actual fact.

But I, like, discuss

the spectacular deaths

of the world's great musicians.

Marvin Gaye, Janis

Joplin, Serge Gainsbourg.

Lindsay Lohan.

Did you do a show on Jed?

No, not yet, no.

F***, Wendell, to be honest,

it's more of a hobby, really.

Right.

Well, what do you do for work?

Actually... sorry.

Do you recall

that marijuana charge

that you helped to

get us out of,

way back in

the '96 Glass Houses tour?

No.

Okay, LAX.

- I had some weed in my bag.

- Oh, geez...

Stupidly stuck it through the

X-ray machine like an idiot.

Yeah, I remember.

Well, that small misdemeanor,

coupled with a recent DUI,

means I might

be getting kicked out

of the good ol' US of A.

That's f***ing terrible.

Yeah, well, I've got a

lawyer who thinks

he might be able to help me,

but uh, his fee is $5,000.

F***.

Wendell.

Come on, man.

You're the only friend

I have left

whose house I have to

drive up a considerable incline

Lachlan, I've told

you a thousand times...

I know... I know what

you said,

and my house is in order,

but it's just a tiny, wee

f***ing house, that's all.

Yeah, well, you

just got to have some money

under the f***ing bed,

okay, Lachlan.

Okay, right...

I work on a farm.

I don't mind my life.

I don't mind it at

all, in fact, but...

I've got less than

$1,200 in the bank.

I don't even have

a credit card.

I've got money coming in,

Wendell, I can pay you back.

I just cannot go back

to the UK.

Nothing for me there.

And you understand that,

don't you, man?

Yes, I understand that, man.

Do you ever go back?

- No.

- Never?

Never.

Then why the f*** did

you come to me?

'Cause you...

Why the f***...?

F***, 'cause you're

Johnny-on-the-spot, aren't you?

Thrive in a crisis,

and all of that.

To wit, the old drug charge.

Yeah, Johnny-on-the-spot,

that's good.

I cleaned up every sh*t pile you

ever trod in, and your mates.

- Right, didn't I?

- Yeah.

- That was me doing that.

- I know.

Except the last one.

You've cost me, boy.

You've cost me a lot more

than five grand.

Yeah, well, I think we made you

quite a bit as well, Wendell.

Your brother made it,

all right?

Your f***ing brother

made me the money.

Not you.

It wasn't about the money.

You see, what you've got

to understand is,

I haven't given you a thought.

I didn't know whether you

were alive or dead.

- Cheers.

- That's right.

And I was never your

manager, you see, Lachlan.

I was never your

f***ing friend.

Jed was the band.

So if they send you back

to England,

I think it would

be about f***ing time.

Take care of yourself.

You tight-fisted

mother f***er.

Five grand.

Open the f***ing gate!

Five grand, you f***ing wank?

F***ing dick.

Hurry up!

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