Saturday, September 4, 2010

hot tramp, i love you so.

We all grow old with our own personal mythology, the way we see the world, how we became who we are, why we do the shit we do. It's our history, it may be full of lies and fantasy but it doesn't fucking matter because it's ours. What we do know, in a way no one else can possibly imagine, are those moments where things felt amazing, the little bolts that strike us dead and hot, blow us over and raise us up. They may getting an A in math, seeing a girls boobs for the first time or doing something your parents don't know about. whatever. exhiliration. power. promise. hope. love. or just fucking feeling good. it might be something we do, or something that someone else does that opens the door to a new world of possibility.
for me, seeing david live in 1983 in Paris, the opening night of the let's dance tour, was just that. My guitar teacher had turned me on the ultimate Bowie starter, ChangesOne. and like many, my first response was to RebelRebel. Fuck Bob Dylan, The Monkees and Aerosmith. He twisted every convention I knew and with it began my own hero worship, my own myth, the Zeus of my twenty first century.
innocently i asked John, my teacher, "hey at the end there, what is a "fuel line and a handful of loose"??
he said "it's a few lines, and a handful of ludes."
i said, "and?'
and he said "oh, you will find out some day"
Amen motherfucker.
enjoy, i do every day.

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