Just in case there are any lingering doubts, it takes Kid Rock about 12 seconds to add ammunition to the argument that he is indeed living the surreal life. The man known as the Early Mornin’ Stoned Pimp to his fans, Robert James Ritchie to his mom and dad, and Bobby to his friends and associates is headed to the golf course when he calls the Georgia Straight on his cellphone from his hometown of Detroit. Cheerfully admitting that he’s not exactly in danger of knocking Tiger Woods off the PGA tour, Rock is nonetheless stoked about his impending tee time.
The 37-year-old rap-rocker turned American-music mixologist is hopped up partly because he’s in a car with his buddies, and partly because one of those buddies has promised to help improve his game. And that’s where things get surreal. Forget getting tips from an above-average hacker who’s learned everything he knows at the local country club; when you’re Kid Rock, you don’t hang with the little people, you roll with the stars.
“I’m getting ready to fucking go try this thing they call golf,” the easygoing Rock says with a cackle. “Actually, I’m getting lessons today. John Daly is going to teach me how to golf.”
Recent Comments