What John Zacherly does for me.
The cool ghoul crypt-kicked into the grave at 96,
I listened to Dinner With Drac a few times, Then I remembered when I was around seven and heard the song, I listened to it over and over again and then pantomimed the song and acted it out. He aroused a desire that I had no ability to articulate, but was inspired by, and I didn’t know it was a calling—and what’s a calling? When the roller coaster locks into its climb and you ascend, and know that even when you take the drop it means it’s from a height that prevents you from falling and flying off into a cool and unpredictable journey.
Like all great artist, Like originality. Like Orson Welles to Dean Martin to Soupy Sales to Thoreau to the Beatles…
He awakened me.
And as I listened to Dinner With Drac and the sax solo goes off, Chemo Fred imagined Freddy-7 dancing and singing the song inside my body, his joy and enthusiasm ridding my body of the latent cancer that might be trying to stop us both. And the spirit enlivens me, wipes out the wooziness.
I awakened me.
And put cancer to death,