July 19, 2009
Los Angeles Song

Purple flowers and a yellow field
where the coyotes play
Rocky tranquility in the City Of Angels
Have you seen any miracles today?

This simple life mesmerizes
This is Nature 101
Do you ever see you reflection
in the setting sun?

New mix bleeds through the headphones
As the hazy sky covers transistor dreams
Tex Mex 'n' ice cream stands drip heart-felt Blues
As helicopters impeach the afternoon ...

Equality remains a mystery
Ascribed to the pen of Paul Bowles
Perhaps every winning proposition
is riddled with bullet holes

(Heard gun-shots last night)
Wild, the City's forlorn longing for trust
Nature, the pangs and remnants of lust

From this balcony I can (bear) witness the Sea
What if all our heroes were washed out/washed up
Feel ancient winds 'cross the City's face
All that's left is you and me ...

(Written on Banana's back porch)
Peace. -Todd

Posted by calico at 05:11 PM
July 16, 2009
Spike Of Sin City

Getting on a flight from Sin City (Las Vegas) to Washington D.C.

Heavy security, yadda yadda, I'm half way through the check out with the security thugs when I realize that I have a commemorative Chicago Blues railroad spike in my bag. I completely forgot about it. Oh, shit. The thing is hard and heavy and could definitely be used as a weapon. About the size of a lead banana. It was a present (given to me by myself) or better said raided from my dead mom's closet, that I've lugged around for many weeks. They were probably worried that I'd clunk myself in the head with it ...

"Sir, is this your backpack?"
Oh, great.

"Yes," I said. What's that? he asked, pointedly. Oh, that's a railroad spike, I said calmly. A railroad spike. Right. Hmmm. Rather peculiar.

"Do you want to explain to me why you have a railroad spike in your bag?" Do I want to? No. Not really. I noticed that two other security goons had slowly been called in, lingering next to me. 3 goons and a buffoon (me). Like a real terrorist is just gonna carry a RAILROAD SPIKE onto a plane?! Good one! I mumbled something about the railroads being the pillar of our early society (it didn't hit home) yuck yuck. Heavy metal! I'm a Lead Pope with no hope. Then I explained quickly that it was a present (sort of, see above), a favourite of my mom (half true), and that I wanted to show it to my granny in Florida. Now that's true! But actually I'd wanted to ship it off to Europe, and had simply forgotten.

I must admit, a railroad spike is a strange thing to carry onto a plane. Heh heh. But here's the best part: whoever was the Head Meathead In Charge decided that the spike was SIMPLY OK (!) to take on the plane. Yeah, that makes sense. Glad he liked my story, ya know, but now I'm wondering WHY IS IT OK to take a metal railroad spike on an airplane? Do they just make this shit up as they go along? (Answer: Yes, they do.)

Officer 1: "The Spike's ok."
Officer 2: "Yes, I know. The spike's ok."
Officer 3: (on radio) "Spike's ok." (Did they mean me?)
I heard the message go down through the ranks on the swquack box.

Then I just put that big heavy thing in my pocket like it was the most normal thing in the world, and got on the plane. Whatever!

Greetings from Sin City!
Peace. -Todd

Posted by calico at 03:27 AM
July 06, 2009
Sean Connery 4th Of July

Be independent! (Whatever that means for YOU.)
Wrote this new song while walking down Sunset Boulevard:

All the daring ones
don't even have time to wonder why
I'll shun anyone
'cuz I feel like a young Sean Connery on the 4th Of July

All the barriers
are put in place to inhibit the sky
But they're irrelevant
In the space of a whisper of an alibi

I've seen the world and ponder still
Fireworks at the Hollywood Bowl
Once I heard the LA Phil
Jason Falkner stole the show

Chorus:
I'm gonna get an electric car
and drive down Sunset Boulevard
Cruise past the Wax Museum
and wave to everybody in there!

I heard gun shots last night
Hitch-hike to throw myself into the human tide
This town has gone downhill
since Sinatra died

All the Englishmen
have proper intentions as they shout at the sky
in hysteria ...
But I don't care 'cuz I'm Sean Connery on the 4th Of July


Written on my way to Abraham Cloud's house. Greetings from Hollywood.
Peace. -Todd

Posted by calico at 03:26 PM
Rebirth Of The '73 Coffee Machine

There's an old coffee machine from another era in the L.A. Musician's Union building, hidden in the back hallway. It is gleaming silver, it's got, "First Choice" written proudly on the front. Exactly. Too bad this beauty hasn't been used properly probably since the '70's!!! One of those hidden treasures that you find from time to time in this town. Did Sinatra use this thing back in the day? Remnants of bygone Hollywoodland. Just another forgotten star in a fickle town of glamour and eternal memory loss. I cranked that bad boy up, flushed it out a couple of times and made 'er sing. Bought some good, strong coffee and made that motor hum ...

Black gold.

Ahhh, the dark stuff pulsing through the glass pot, cursing through the hallways, the smell permeating the whole building. Ask West Side Ken, he was there. Shake a few hands, make a few friends, glug glug glug. People were happy and surprised that I'd brought this Black Beauty back from the dead. Just a little elbow grease, I said.

Peace. -Todd

Posted by calico at 02:52 PM