I saw the Clash open for the Who in Oakland in ’82, when I still lived in Eureka and it was a four hour drive. As I backed out of the driveway in my Torino, the brake pedal went all the way to the floor; the master cylinder was bad. After consulting with my friend Matt in the passenger seat, we decided we would see the Who or die trying. The only hard part was navigating Berkeley to get to Matt’s sister’s house, but since it was late at night by then, we had no real problems.
I saw the Clash open for the Who in Oakland in ’82, when I still lived in Eureka and it was a four hour drive. As I backed out of the driveway in my Torino, the brake pedal went all the way to the floor; the master cylinder was bad. After consulting with my friend Matt in the passenger seat, we decided we would see the Who or die trying. The only hard part was navigating Berkeley to get to Matt’s sister’s house, but since it was late at night by then, we had no real problems.
Great story.