Last night I dreamed a dream. Nick Lowe had agreed to come to Winnipeg to guest with a local band (maybe help with the production of their debut recording). Lowe was impressed by the demo I sent him. He flew from London, spending the night in Toronto before flying to Winnipeg. He arrived at the hotel, went to his room, and then joined me in the lobby (could have been the Fort Garry, but there were couches, these days nowhere to sit in the Fort Garry Hotel lobby anymore). The band never showed up, I couldn’t get any of them on the phone.
We waited some more. They still didn’t show. I was mortified and Lowe was furious. Fade out on him clicking his black leather boot heels on the granite floor, talking into his cell.