Warm wishes to y'all in the waning days of '007 ... Peace, -Todd
Coffee in Cottbus. Where the hell am I? Looks like Poland, circa 1977.
Sittin' here on a park bench at quarter-to-eight A.M., with my sunglasses on ... slept in the car. Went to the Glad House last night, spoke in my best english, hope we play there. Good room - like Pfefferberg in Berlin. Had a brew or two in the House, then found a midnight restaurant built right in the old Roman city wall, and had a mean gypsy scramble. That was the real McCoy!
And here I sit, waking up with my coffee and my shades. Now a grey strassenbahn toodles by, with the fantastic and shocking advertisement, "PIZZA-AMERIKA." Eeek! It should say, Warsaw Pizza or Minsk Express. Lots o' Trabi's and Wartburgs around here, by George! Now I bite into the driest chocolate-chip muffin the world ever saw. Tastes like Martha Washington's ass ... not that I would know.
Now it's 8:30 A.M., and why am I the only one wearing sunglasses? Haven't these people ever heard of ZZ-Top?
Oh, right - it's 1977 ... They won't see ZZ-Top for another 5 years.
Hi ya! This is for you gals, I enjoyed riding the train with you! What a wild ride. Me and the 3 amigas. We talked about everything from The Killers to Creedance Clearwater Revival, the way it should be ... Thanks for sharing the sexy videos of drunken rockerkids, camping at festivals. Excellent! How can it be that Cottbus is so ugly (pardon!) and you're so beautiful? So I hearby invite you into my (musical) world, and officially extend the offer to be on the VIP list for my next show ...
In or not in Cottbus. With or without vodka. (But probably with.) Re-printing my poem "Cottbus 2000" in your honour. (see above) Keep rockin'! Peace, -Todd
It's a new day - live, be ALIVE ... run like a lion in the wild! In pursuit of antelope and energetic dreams, mysterious. Peace, -Todd
Phase 2 of The Gas Station Stories: (see previous)
3 AM in yet another gas station. Story of my life ... (or at least until we invent electric cars, and the systems to support them!) I am a travelling Soul. Indeed. And here I met the mad-mad Gas Station Man.
For the love of Music! He is a self-professed music expert, and I believe him. We talk about all kinds of weird/abstract bands, and I'm suprised by how much he knows. He's from East Germany, a long-hair rocker like me, heavy duty. He tells me all about Fad Gadget - something I've never heard before. Apparently Mr. Gadget was the guy who helped Depeche Mode find their sound. The Mode was Fad's opening band (!) in the early early days, says the Gas Station Man. Now, this is really interesting. Ya learn something new every day! (Especially when it's night.)
Things I DIDN'T tell him:
- I've been in a taxi before with Martin Gore.
- I've sat at the bar with the entity known as Fletch for hours.
- I've called european promoters relentlessly, to convince them that Calico Soul is the perfect support band, not "funky" but "keyboard based." (hasn't worked yet)
- I've received emails from Martin and Co./talked on their cell phones and have NEVER heard of Fad Gadget.
- I used to have sex with a roller-skating girl from Venice Beach and her name was Fidget.
These are facts. Even so, I believe him. How could I not know? He's the bringer of New Truth, timeless. He's the Fad Gas Station bringer of the word. And now, a song:
The Fad Gas-Station Gadget Man
The Fad Gas-Station Gadget Man
(on a tangent ...)
The Fab Ask-And-Tell Knowing Man
The Flabby Tin-Can Man with a Fag
(in his mouth)
The Master, The Servant
The Spastik, The Serpent
The Gas-Stationed Man has a Plan ...
Thanks for the info, grand! I'm the man behind the wheel. We're meeting tonight at 5 AM, the mad Gas-Station Gadget Man and me. We're gonna drive together to Dresden. Talk about Gothic. A city fire-bombed to smithereens, with a Hygiene Museum. (?) I do so love the absurd. Should I tell him? Peace, -Todd