Bon Scott, We Miss You

Bon Scott was the original singer of seminal rock band AC/DC.  Every album up to and including Highway to Hell features his unmistakable singing (and occasional air-accordion).  Bon Scott died in 1980 after a particularly hard night of drinking, and the band replaced him with Brian Johnson (who has his own merits), but it was never quite the same.

After a few days of grey skies, sleet and snow the weather finally broke long enough for a sunny & warm afternoon to break through.  To celebrate, your faithful correspondent got out of the house and jumped on the Heel-Toe Express for a walk around the neighbourhood.  Not quite as epic as last weekend’s hike (18 km) or as speedy as last Monday’s blitz (10’10” per km over 6.5 km), but a nice & tidy 14.7 km over 2.5 hours.  Not too shabby.

The song that lodged in my tape-recorder brain for most of the trip was “Love Hungry Man” by AC/DC.  This might be the perfect rock song, and the cadence is tailor-made for stomping uphill and making great time on the trails.  I’ve often said that being Malcolm Young would be the best job in the world; stand in front of your Marshall stacks and grind out the purest riffs known to mankind while your fans go bananas and your brother Angus does all the running around.  This song has it all – a great riff, crunchy guitars, snappy snare drums, a fluid bass line, and Scott’s sexually suggestive vocal.  Four minutes and seventeen seconds of rock ‘n’ roll magic.  I’m sure other songs came up in the rotation as I finished my walk, but “Love Hungry Man” was permanent lodged on infinite repeat.  Three hours later and I can still hear every riff.

It’s springtime in central Alberta, so most of the migratory birds are back in town.  I spotted Canada geese, mallards, coots, grebes, and pelicans at the local wetlands, red-winged blackbirds lurking in the cattails, and even a hairy woodpecker in one family’s backyard (he flocked off before I could get my camera out of my pocket).  I’m not sure they would appreciate the unadulterated hard-rock goodness of Scott, Young, Young and Co. but the birds seemed to be making their own fun in the sun this afternoon.


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