Eddie Van Halen in 2006.
I had been waiting at 5150 studios for more than an hour when Eddie finally showed up. I hadn't seen him in a decade. He looked like he hadn't bathed in a week. He certainly hadn't changed his clothes in at least that long. He wasn't wearing a shirt. He had a giant overcoat and army pants, tattered and ripped at the cuffs, held up with a piece of rope. I'd never seen him so skinny in my life. He was missing a number of teeth and the ones he had left were black. His boots were so worn out he had gaffer's tape wrapped around them, and his big toe stuck out. He walked up to me, hunched over like a little old man, a cigarette in his mouth. He had a third of his tongue removed because of cancer and he spoke with a slight lisp.
From the forthcoming book RED: My Uncensored Life in Rock by Sammy Hagar. Copyright © 2011 by Sammy Hagar. To be published on March 15, 2011 by IT Books, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
For more from RED, click here