She told me that the FBI wanted some dirt on this girl she was casually hanging out with, and they were willing to pay. She was willing to squeal. She told 'em stuff for a measly 50 bucks. Jezzus. Sellin' info cheap. I realized that she'd do me that way, too ... That's not punk, girl. Fuck "morals," and right vs. wrong, but I ain't no rat. I'm a friend 'til the end. Tell ya what, my heart's not for sale. -Todd
A Poem: "If you live primarily for the wishes and expectations of others, you will be a truly unhappy person ..." Peace. -Todd
"Well, what did you do when everything got stolen?" (Car, backpack, minidisc, firewire, hard-drive, return ticket.) "How did you get back? How did you feel?"
Me: "I, um, went to the Green Day show in Vienna, then I hitch-hiked another 1,000 kilometers back to Berlin, ho-hum, with joy in my heart ... They can steal my car, but not my soul." -Todd
Someone stole our car a few months ago in Prague. Thought it was behind us, but we're still talking about it. I told her (tonight, over coffee and Guinness) that those 2 farmers from Bavaria (no such thing) weren't actually farmers at all, they were angels. They tried to send us a signal. They tried to get us to drive to that puny li'l town outside of Prague, to party with them. We would have woken up with the car intact, I said. There are no bavarian farmers, I said. There are no angels, she said. Now I know that she has never seen a miracle before ... but I have. The fact that we're alive (not in some dungeon run by the mob) makes me suspect, and even begin to believe, in angels. And miracles. I've seen many things. Magical things, dangerous things. Things real, and sometimes whispered but not spoken ...
(quote) Toddy - I have question for you ... Have you got receive a real french kiss? For french girl, of course!!! When do you come to France? Miss Sybille
The answer is yes. I had a wonderful affair in Paris, some moons ago, with a beautiful girl named Eclaire (that's her name in my book, at least). She sat before me, after a long session of making love, and was playing the flute. She looked so delicious. French wine, french bread, french kiss. I said, "If I was smart, I'd marry you," she stopped and smiled, "But I'm not, I guess I'm selfish." -Todd
This is for my man Wessside, somewhere in Mexico ...
Hug a Zapatista for me.
Thanks for your message! You are always by my side, always be sly, my music career is on the rise, there's heavens galore in the skies, and a meeting of the minds is a definite must - SOON! How's your hide? How's your ride? Remember that time I cried? Do not tire. Random musical thoughts inspire. Nimmt contrafagott, sag' ich nur, wenn es um Mahler geht. (For you non-musical fools who may not know what a "fagott" is, it's simply another word for bassoon, ok. Relax - fucking macho's.) Sittin' here in a northern german town, writing, and Air's song "Universal Traveller" plays somewhere in the background. Hats off to you! "So far ... so far away." But right now, in this moment, you are not far away at all - you are right here. You've saved my ass more than once (viva la Bijon!) and I have every intention of returning the favour. With bells on. In spades. Potentially exponentially ...
I have so many enormo fond memories of you 'n' me in Mexico, in Switzerland, in Schwerin, in Paris, in Prague, in San Diego. Jesus, I could go on and on, and I have NO IDEA where to start, to even come CLOSE to capturing the respect and admiration I have for you. As a person and as a musician. Our "Lost Mexican Highway" story (true-to-life) has shaken and stirred people around the globe. No shit. The "Holy Patron Saint of Drug Runners," another strange character we met during our journies together, makes one sigh with wonder. Ready for the Hotel Costa Rica?? The "Last Great European NOSEBEAR" (in captivity) story has scared children around the world, usually on Halloween. The "Three Legged Cat" sessions, and subsequent electro-fagotti remix. Igor from Moscow (great old-school faggotista) telling us "Happy Birthday!" over a serious series of tequilas. Hondo and the mysterious Who-Tuba noise incident. Krazy Kurt of Green Day / Calico Soul fame. WHERE IS DANDY DAN?? (Directing a jr. high marching band in Bakersfield, last I heard ...) Good gawd, do NOT get me started!!! I could write volumes. (And maybe I should!) We the real deal. I'll try not to get carried away here (yeah, right), let's just say that you amaze me still, and I feel honoured to have you on my records and be your friend. Peace.
Truly Yours, -Todd 007
Tragedy - a terrible song by the Bee Gee's ...
So many tragedies in the world, so sad. Been wondering lately, what's more terrible and tragic - a musician who's stuck on heroin, or a person who doesn't allow themselves to feel Love ... ???
"I'm going hunting ... I'm The Hunter." (Björk)
Waking up, somewhere in Europe - brekki with Jessi - a girl I met in Seattle a year ago. Of course, I'll change her name once I start something with her. She was travelling last year with a gal pal who we'll call Korynna. I wrote in my notebook back then, "Yum and yummier." (Never told 'em - they'll never know - don't worry, nobody reads this shit anyway!) Damn tasty. (The breakfast.) Waking up, one year later, and it's much later than I thought, and I vaguely remember drinking prosecco together in unison at 5 a.m. Pure bliss. Chuckled to myself, "I've had this dream for a year now, heh, heh!") I slowly awaken from my drowsy existence, and realize how beautiful my life is. She is, too. Look into those eyes, oh shit! This would be a dream for most mortals ... I'm such a lucky bastard. Surrounded by beauty!
A Poem: (called "Wild Hunter" or maybe "Paralyze Eyes")
"To dive into those eyes! To see the moon, and come out the other side!" Paralyze ... Went swimming in those eyes for what seemed like centuries. Timeless morning. And it's my birthday!!! Someone "up there" must like me. Coffee and toast and sheer elegance before me.
A new day begins. Morning has broken. Something new has begun. Peace. -Todd