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artie
Feb 27, 2021
In Say Hello
Inspired by a dream from a grade school friend of Jimmy. Thank you Robin, don't stop dreaming. I’ve never written a song in my life, but I wrote this one for Jimmy ... please share it with him. I dreamt I was talking to my old friend The boy who lived next door Jimmy Wilgus was his name And he was back from a Russian prison camp. ​ In my dream he was his younger former self A good looking boy with a round youthful face. ​ He had a full head of dark wavy hair. Will my friend recognize me when he gets home? My hair has gone grey waiting for him. ​ In my dream I told my friend Get into the green plastic wheel barrow that my Mom gave me from my childhood home. ​ Get in my friend And I’ll spin you around and round and round To celebrate you coming home again. ​ I wheeled my friend in circles till both of us were laughing like kids. My blond hair now grey and thin His dark and full of younger days. ​ I pray he still knows who I am. When my friend comes rushing home ​ Get in my friend And I’ll spin you around To celebrate you coming home. ​ We laughed and hugged My long lost friend I cry for you Till we meet again. ​ Ill wait for you No matter how long it takes And I’ll spin you round and round In the green plastic wheel barrow To celebrate you coming home again. "I’m gonna wait till Jimmy comes home to make the melody with him" - Robin
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artie
Oct 03, 2018
In Say Hello
I hope you are surviving in some way where your brain and body is still in one piece. These are tough times, rough toilets, and emotionally testing. Perhaps there is something positive that you can find in all of this, but it’s much easier for me to say such things. For whatever it’s worth, I pray every day for your safety, health, and endurance, as well as the same for your father, mother and Wendy. I’m sure you must miss Elena and your daughter no less. I had lunch with Joe and his daughter in NYC by my office the other day, and we were reminiscing about our band. Remember grapes, “First time I smelt it”, my flapping while talking to Andy Rubberblock, Joe’s reasons for being late to rehearsal, Derrick’s bowl of chili, your dad’s over-fogging at the Underground, Saxon’s sandwich eatin’ performance, Joe’s hair in Zak’s guitar, Zak and his use of the mint adjective “I had the best ice cream the other day it was mint.”, Andy’s swimwear, the trombone scene outside Brian Van Korn’s studio, when you threw the chair at me, my Elvis greeting on the answering machine in Chatham, fresh coffee, sandwiches, Derrick’s Little Debbie Honeybuns, Elbow, two watermelons in a pillowcase, When have you been, Cedar Point, Fishbein’s trip to California and Joe’s Guitar Player of the Month at Ponderosa, Carl’s Jr. by Nudes Nudes Nudes, PATCH change in Flying Colors, My document about Jimmy Wilgus, “the Whole Truth and Nothing but the Truth”, Christmas gatherings jamming together in front of the piano, Wendy with Hellraiser, the hymenic remover, your dad’s 7 bags of pretzels vs. 1 bag of potato chips, Pete Sweaty’s balls, SNL’s Jeopardy, more cowbell, all the great movies we talked about, especially Big Lebowski, Space Balls, Blazing Saddles, Duel, Inbanana Jones, Charleston Chew a the Felix No. 9, Fish with the Eyes Falling Out and some Bouillabaisse in Room Service, and our many many band rehearsals, dinners together, gigs, recording studio sessions, pool parties, anti-social behavior, and jokes. This spirit will live in me forever, and you had everything to do with it. Although we can never go back, if we connect these dots, maybe we can make something of it going forward. It would be great if we can correspond somehow, but even if we don’t, and this letter gets to you successfully, just know that our version of history is way better than Michael Jackson’s version of HIStory, because we did it all without grease in our hair. Just our sausages. Speaking of sausages, I’m hearing that you make a mean Borscht soup. I frequently visit Greenpoint Brooklyn to get some Borscht and potato pancakes there. Denise is doing well, and she sends her love and kisses. I’m hoping to visit you somehow next year, but we shall see. The parachute and a fire extinguisher look very much alike when chaos occurs on a plane. Friend and family always, Artie
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artie
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