A friend of mine was in Ireland working on a Van Morrison album when the sax player did something minor that upset Morrison and Morrison hurled a torrent of verbal abuse at him. When the sax player tried to defend himself Morrison told him to shut up that he was sacked and that he would never work with him again.
The next morning it was time to record some sax parts and Morrison asked where the sax player was. My friend and the rest of the crew looked around sheepishly and wondered whether or not to remind him that he’d sacked him the previous day. “For Christ’s sake” said Morrison as he started dialing on his phone:
“John, where the bloody hell are you? We’re about to record the brass!”
“Er… you sacked me yesterday Van…”
“Oh don’t be such an over-sensitive big girl’s blouse! Get yourself to the studio in the next hour, I want to get this finished today!”