Two things for the Santa Barbara Kid:
Number 1. I'm coming. Get ready ...
Number 2. (This one's a bit longer.) Man, oh man, that was one kick-ass show, no wait - an experience! I wore a t-shirt that said LICK BUSH (double meaning), folks were freakin'. And everything I said in that (now infamous) scroll aka manifesto aka letter to you is all true. And now even more so. The party is growing ... You must join the Calico circus of zany fun and trip and zip with us around the globe, 'cuz I can't always show up over there (but please see Number 1 above). Now here's the best part and indeed written only for you, and your love of madcap adventure and synchronicity and literature and sex and mayhem, and well ... you get the point! I took the subway to said gig, see, which was absolutely brilliant. Full of wild boyz (thank you, Duran Duran) and girls (by the way, at your behest I invited young tasty-morsel Lolita girl, also your Fruitgirl from that train, maybe they were there in that sweaty mass of humanity). And on the way I saw this kid of maybe 8 or 9 years old with his parents, and he was wearing a jacket and in big letters it read right across his shoulders:
WHITE WOLF!
Amazing! Ok, at the risk of turning this into an inside joke (for all the world to see) I must explain what this means. Fans in Sweden will read this and think it is some kind of obscure drug reference, which it is not. Right now I am sittin' in an internet cafe, near to nearby where we saw the original WHITE WOLF last year, also near that restaurant we went to that nobody goes to (yes, it closed because no-one ever went there, was closed awhile and then re-opened with new owners and yes, it is still always empty ... I sincerely believe we are the only ones who ever went in that place at all). Dear readers, Me 'n' the Santa Barbara Kid saw a guy who had a white wolf-looking wolfdog as a pet, and that became a sort of cosmic joke for anything wild and funny and outrageous. I have always believed that the sight of a wolf (white or any other colour) is a sign that something magical is taking place. Readers - do you believe in magic? So many lives are devoid of magic, it's sad. The SB Kid and I would shout out at random moments, "White Wolf!" for no apparent reason, and then die laughing. This I also did, as I sat on the tube and saw this kid with his WHITE WOLF jacket. I laughed out loud and no-one on that train could figure out why. They must have thought, "Just another wicked guitar player with mad ideas who laughs to himself?" But it was such a sign, a magic moment. Now then, I have never seen a jacket with WHITE WOLF on it. Have you? Maybe it's a very famous brand from some exotic designer label in Bangkok or London, so it's of no synchronicitous value whatsoever, but for me it was new. On the way to my show, in fact, outstanding! And it was orange. Yes, the jacket and letters upon witch WHITE WOLF stood was all screaming orange! This is the part, with much humour, that really got me. (Thank you, The Kinks.) I mean, it wasn't white, you see, it was not off-white, it was not cream with white highlights ... no, the White Wolf was ORANGE! Can someone explain this to me? I am a fashion rebel of sorts, and maybe I don't sway in time to the latest hip-fandango trends (puke!), but I simply do not believe that that was some random event on that train with a well-known brand called WHITE WOLF. No, no. I believe that was magic. The secrets of the universe revealing itself, reminding us to read the omens and dance to the beat of our own drummer. Fuck convention! Be yourself! Yes, that was some sort of sign, call it let's-rock-together, or I-miss-ya-Soulpartybro, or isn't-the-universe-deep-mysterious-and-amazing? or I-would-love-to-show-that-kid-the-secrets-of-the-power-of-Magic-but-his-parents-would-disapprove, or good-gawd-I-luv-this-fucking-train-at-this-moment! Question: was our first White Wolf sighting before or after we went hitch-hiking (and got picked up by sexy, married housewives)? We were wild. We were (and are) on fire. A ferocious fire of the damp forest, raging, where White Wolves and Hungrybears dwell. Remember that life is full of Magic, if we look for it. Routine kills inspiration, and Inspiration kills routine. Stay wild. See ya soon, animal. Peace, -Todd
(PS - did I mention that the White Wolf was ORANGE?)
Posted by calico at January 04, 2007 07:11 AM