Type & Cross/Whole Blood

He taught me to dance, said I’d be missing out on such a good part of life if I didn’t. He was right. I remember that flyer he drew, “please come,” he laughed when he showed it to me. I remember the cosi fan tutti frutti poster in his room at his folks house. I remember the horrible job I did piercing his ear with a safety pin, sorry! He had a GI Joe wolfpack tattoo that wasn’t much more than an outline of a woof head, when you turned it sideways it became a sheep. I remember his stop action film he made with barbies and Joes (and I will pay to have this transferred to digital if anyone has access to his old super 8 film, we need this). I remember leaving clubs at dawn. I remember the “land” in the desert. I remember spiked hair and punk rock, bowler hats and droogs, makeup and glamrock, pot and booze and speed and shrooms. Like Julie Bird, I remember his monkey, Minnie. And hey, I remember Julie Bird (she introduced Manuel and I), and Franco, and Thinmun, and Doc, and Blazing, and Mad Max, and Stevo, and mulatto Matt, and I can’t believe that an old life long stoner like me remembers this much. I know I won’t ever forget Manuel. And I can’t stop thinking about a pin he used to wear on his hat (that I incidentally coveted), it was an image of telephone towers with sparking lines, beneath, it said “maintain contact”. I wish I had. I love you all.

Cliff