1st FRIDAY COACHELLA:
Here come the white vans, numbered. Tinted glass, air-con, shades
& beards. Sleepless drivers, return rentals dressed in washed-out
black. Face pressed up against cool stone for kick-start, sheltering
from a cruel sun. A Lycra woman moving weird & fast. Growling
flat-bed pulls away. A familiar face, a London accent, chance
encounters at random hotels. Lives in bags on wheels, triple ‘A’.
Fully blacked-out ground transporters pull away slow, snakes
concealing messengers tossing coins into ornamental pools.
Took in a brilliant show at Frank’s Place last night. Dinner &
‘A class’ entertainment. He never dropped a beat nor fluffed a note.
Kept the whole show rolling alone for hours & knew exactly what his
audience wanted. Thanks for inspiration Frank. You have no idea
how much you lifted us last night.
Tonight I dedicate the show to Big Terry who passed away in the
early hours of this morning. He was my dear friend & guide, a man
of very little material wealth yet the richest man I have ever met.
Terry never let me feel alone no matter how far from home I was,
he would call to check I was ok & make sure I was getting connected
to the light.