Wilcox

Hollywood Nuance / Wilcox

(Cover Ideas thus far)

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The Wilcox Bldg.

Now the Wilcox Duet, it was Hollywood’s pink, mecca of our Rock n Roll society. Modern day Babylon, Sodom and Gomorrah. Tweakers n Tinseltown. Faceless rock stars, royalty in their own mind, performing sold out shows, at the Flavian Amphitheater. Revelry, debauchery, Swimming pool courtyard. A revolving door of outcasts and misfits, walking on water, bathing in the Holy glory of the sun. We were gods and goddesses, for a brief moment in time, leaving autographed shadows at the gates to Our very own primitive version, of the Garden of Allah. Strippers and cocktail waitresses, the lifeline of a lost generation. 

It was about 4:30 under an afternoon sky, perfect pale blue not a cloud to be seen. Tweakazoid’s ramblings were less than coherent, eyes darting back and forth like the fuzz were on his tail. With just blue jeans, no shirt, no shoes, no dice, he came a few steps forward towards us and we felt it coming on…. This was it. The Big reveal. The Message from our maker…. These were to be the words etched into stone for generations to come. Hell! This could be IT! 

His dry tongue licked at his cracked lips smearing the white gobs of foam from the corners of his mouth away, and I can’t say I wasn’t glad for that. He sized us up for one last time, head to toe, east to west. With a caution in the expression of his face the silence was palpable… ready to explode. 

Then booming. Like thunder. The blow of the trumpet heralding the End of Days…. He looked at us and screamed……..

“Squirrel Eyes”!!!