It was the fall of 1992, and the US and Europe were in the first throes of grunge fever, as Nirvana, Pearl Jam and the rest of the Seattle scene ruled the airwaves and alternative hard rock finally ruled the mainstream music scene.
Meanwhile, almost 2000 miles to the east, I found myself on a a tour bus with AC/DC, about to cross the mighty Mississippi river into the all-American city of Minneapolis, perched on the eastern edge of the Northern Great Plains that formed America’s vast breadbasket.
