Logan Airport
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I looked at this guy and said, "The Rolling Stones are coming. Don't
tell anybody."
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It was a hot sultry afternoon when I arrived at Logan, and I had
deliberately tried to keep in shape on the airplane during the long
trip over. Not too much to drink, watch the movie, walk around the
cabin a lot, and no attempts to relate to anybody. I whizzed through
Customs and found Pilot Bob Adams right away just outside the door.
Adams flies our twin-engine Cessna for us, or for
me,
I should
say, since everyone else in the company feels guilty about the thing
and how much it costs to fly it around. Even
I
had been flying
around less in it, and was half-convinced that maybe I should sell it,
and drive around in automobiles again like normal people do.
Half-convinced, I say, because there were moments like this, at the
end of a transoceanic trip that began hours earlier on another
continent, when the availability and ownership of a fast airplane
became an absolute necessity, mercilessly dictated by one's conception
of one's role in the world. And so I was very happy to see Pilot Bob
Adams, and we moved quickly through the back entrance, out under the
big DC-10 which had just flown me from Italy, and into the Courtesy
Car. I recognized the kid driving it, and he knew me, too, as the
guy who sends rock stars in every so often on their way from Long
View Farm, the recording studio. "Back so soon?" he laughed
at me. And then I remembered that he had driven me
out,
from the Twin to the DC-10, only a week earlier. "Who's at the
ranch now? Frank Sinatra?"
You should have heard what I said then. Make no mistake, I was
shortly to become
ultra-secretive about the well-known rock band
soon to descend on Long View Farm, and even went so far once as to
threaten dismissal of any Long View employees needlessly spreading the
word, but on the 22nd of July I looked at this guy and said, "The
Rolling Stones are coming. Don't tell anybody."
And that was one of the funniest things I said during the entire
summer.
Adams had me back in Worcester in twenty minutes, and twenty minutes
after that I was back in the countryside. It was now close to 6 PM, and
all Farm personnel were on hand, full of energy, and asking me when
I'd be ready to be briefed.
"Right away," I said.
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