AC/DC, AN AUSTRIAN, A MUSIC VIDEO, AND A RATHER LARGE VEHICLE
I bought my Hummer 3 about six years ago. I sold my Hummer 3 about six years ago. I don’t even know why I bought it. (I think it’s because whenever I climbed into the cab, I thought I was Sergeant Fury. At night, when I drove to people’s houses, they’d come out with their hands up, screaming, “Don’t shoot!” It was that intimidating.) It was big, it was daft, and if someone shot your tires, they could reinflate themselves—brilliant! And I made firm friends at all my local filling stations: it was a thirsty bugger. But I soon realized it was nothing like the real thing. It was second-rate, like screwing a woman who’s been put away damp. It was the sum of all things silly.
Now the real Humvee is a different animal altogether, which reminds me of a time in Van Nuys, California. AC/DC were shooting a video for the song “Big Gun,” which was being used in the movie Last Action Hero. We were having lunch outside, when a great big Humvee the color of a camel’s arse flew by and nearly clipped the table. We went flying.
“You idiot!” I shouted. The Humvee stopped, and out sloped a big muscle with a head on top. Oops, he’s a big bugger! It was Arnold “Schwarzenaustrohungarianegger,” and he had his “Aahh’ll be baaack” sunglasses on. Was that a smile or a grimace on his face? He looked like he’d just lost a dollar and found a quarter, d’ya know what I mean? He tractored towards us. I noticed his head never moved when he walked. He walked past and lifted a finger, which obviously meant, “Hey, guys, lovely to see you. This is going to be fun.” You see, Arnie was going to be in the video.
Now I had to inspect the Humvee. God, it was big, as wide as a diner counter, just not as shiny. On a foggy day, you wouldn’t be able to see who was sitting next to you, it was so wide. The inside was all military. There were levers and knobs everywhere. So this was Arnie’s ride. Well, of course it was. He had to drive something that was him, an action-mobile.
What happened next floored me. Arnie came out of his trailer wearing an Angus schoolboy suit, complete with guitar. At first I thought someone had left an air hose up Angus’s arse, but no, it was Arnie, ready to rock. And rock he did! He mimed a duet with Angus, then picked Angus up with one arm and sat him on his shoulder. You know, this guy was all right. I asked Arnie about his Humvee, and the quietest man I know started to talk about his car (it’s always the way with cars). He loved it. “It fitz my sholterz,” he said, and he started to heave with laughter.
But he wasn’t kiddin’. I saw the label inside his leather jacket: it was XXXXL.