My singing debut was in a Toronto jail during the late 1960's and featured some of my favourite Neil Young tunes. I had entered a home near Yonge and Eglinton where Bob Dylan was singing, and on discovering that it was a recording, not Bob himself, I became perturbed and quite vocal. The resident freaks understood, of course, and were most accommodating, but a neighbour called the police. When they rolled down the street (I think it was Roselawn Ave) I approached the cruiser and proceeded to recite the part numbers for each letter of the ‘P-L-Y-M-O-U-T-H’ nameplate on the cruiser's header panel (I was a Chrysler parts clerk), and this feat of recall earned me a trip to the lock-up. I'll tell you the rest of the story another time, the good lord willing and the creek don't rise.