It was a sunny in Calgary and it was the Nationals at Spruce Meadows and I was there with my ma, pa and my lawyer to watch little ponies jump fences. When I was a kid, Ryan used to chase me around like a little pony and I too used to jump fences. Only I wore a riding helmet because I was/am very special. This riding helmet has a home on our mantle. I may even use it to protect my dolly hair, while I ride my bike.
While we were enjoying an ice cream, we were sat behind a man eating a big container of fruit, granola and yogurt and we thought to ourselves “that is one cool mother fucker!” Turns out, not only did we think he was cool, but so did the numerous people that went up to him to ask for his picture.
My dad is a smart man (he used to be a teacher, you know!) and he piped up that Bruce Springsteen’s daughter was riding in the Nationals that weekend. In a flash, my dad disappeared and before we knew it, he was asking The Boss about the Roy Orbison concert he played in the 80s. I was too chicken to go over and take a picture, so my lawyer did. I’m still waiting for my bill. Shit.
Behold, my old man and THE Boss. My dad thinks he is the Boss in our house, but we all know Bentley is.
Later that night, Anastasia came over for dinner and told us that Dodo thought Bruce was part owner of Spruce Meadows because they kept on calling him “the boss” on the news. Bless Dodobird!