This is the story of the Calico Kid, a guy named El Dante, The Big Englishman, The Czech Guy Who's Never There, and Ernesto from Sweden. Yes, Sweden. And it all took place somewhere near Little Havanah. (Bad rep, great coffee.) It was a hot night in Feb. Misquitos galore. A good time was had by all, and many philosophic points were made (burp). Flying in from (must have been) Madrid, all the newspapers in Spanish, I read something about a mis-hap in Santa Barbara, someone "going postal" to the tune of 6 dead. Here we go again ... hope my friends are all awright. Perfect re-entry into the Land Of The Free. More on Ernesto's salsa dancing in the next blog. Hot! But furiously/seriously guys, here's more current stuff: first I just wanna say - now tune in and dig this - the Superbowl is in Detroit, right? After a brief but deep chat with a Soul Brother on the bus at 5 AM, I just wanna ask, "Um, how many MOTOWN artists have they asked to play at half-time??" None? Think about it ... Furthermore, the man known as El Dante (south America) just bought a Cadillac and is a pimp if I've ever seen one, talks about big business and racism, and The Big Englishman nods and agrees. Tales of, "But you know, I've done some terreeeble things in my conntreee," never cease to amaze. Yeah, we were all stuck in a hotel together, warm rain/thunder outside, and I listened to everyone's stories over-n-over intently (until their E pills kicked in, heh! sponsored by a local thug, I believe The Big Englishman vomited it away, and we talked about The Clash) then we wrestled with pristine delimmas artificial and subverted literary weasels extreme, with not the least concern for the Law or moronic societal inhibitions. Free Speech, indeed. All this in the place where they stole that election a few moons back - Miami Dade! Silent rebellion ... But I say now, as a tribute to the Dark Wave Girl With The Eyes (that we encountered), and she was undoubtedly a siren (The Big Englishman agrees) so in the name of Beauty, let it be said here that all things spastic or didactic or hispanic or orgasmatic DO BEGIN IN THE MINDS/HEARTS/SOULS (or perhaps womb/tomb/perfumed balloons) of crazed men! Let freedom ring ... So we should not fear the reaper or the wrath of phoney minions of president's millions, and instead move towards the Ultimate Truth (dainty in deed, indeed, in theory but HUGE in practice) of brutal universal kindness. I write this for you, new friends! even though we were brought together by way of a dark, seedy hotel, even though the lanky Czech Guy did nothing, absolutely nothing, and we may all never see each other again, well ... what a beautiful, courageous and outrageous night! And at some point I dragged you all straight down to that Haitian restaurant, and ended up SINGING! ("Summertime" I think it was, hey, that flute player was good) with two guys I'd never met, yeah singin' blues just for you, careening high and low on my vocal solo impromptu, and hours later as the duo left, one of them said (I think it was the guitarist), "Hey - I love you," and he meant it, and I said it back, and I meant it, too ... PEACE. -Todd