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This whole monstruousity was originally conveived February through March 2001 by the members of The Big Note - a Frank Zappa YahooGroup. After an arduous gestation period, this site was birthed on April 11 2001. True to the essence of collaborative effort, these people are held responsible.

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© TheBigNote 2001-2004
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Speed will turn you into your parents.


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It's a sad day. Gazing out of my rain-melted window into the gray empty sky, life seems suddenly meaningless to me. I'm missing someone; someone who was very important in my life. Someone I loved very much.

We met in Venice back in the late '80s. I was wondering around St. Marks Square, a typical, stupid American tourist. We made eye contact and she took me under her wing.

We'd been together ever since - reading, shopping for books, relaxing in the park. We didn't live together; she had her life and I had mine. She came with me to London in 1989. We'd meet for lunch at Trafalgar Square. I always felt so proud when we were together. It was as if I was Cary Grant in some glamorous film.

Midge was an actress - a star. And she made me feel like a star. Her biggest role was in the Macaulay Culkin vehicle: Home Alone 2 (It was much funnier than the first Home Alone, but then again, I'm biased.)

All this morning I've been haunted by the lyrics to that Hall and Oates song: "She's Gone." I'd pay the devil to get that damn song out of my head.

But, as I write this, that song is replaced by another by Elton John: "Candle in the Wind." You see, Midge, too, lived her life "like a candle in the wind." I'll be the first to admit that no one was more upset than I after Elton John and Bernie Taupin rewrote the lyrics to that song for Princess Di's funeral. And I have to confess that I still hold Prince Charles personally responsible for Diana's death. If he had been more of a MAN, and stuck to Royal Tradition, instead of granting her the divorce, he would have had her beheaded. Then she would have never been in that Mercedes in Paris with Egyptian playboy Dodi Fayed on that fateful August evening in 1996. Midge felt the same way (She never said as much, but I know she did).

The last time I saw her was a couple of days ago. I was telling her all about Graham Greene's childhood - how all his brothers and sisters, and even his parents, were spies and how that might have had a mild impact on dinner conversations at the Greene household (And just think of the gifts they must have given one another! "Gee whiz, Dad, thanks for the unusually large pen!" "Thank YOU, Graham, for the unusually large tie-clip!").

Midge was listening, but I noticed her head was cocked to one side - as if my constant rambling on and on was beginning to ruffle her feathers, so to speak. This was odd because, normally, talk of spies and espionage fascinated her. Some of her ancestors had done intelligence work for various governments during the past three or four wars.

I should have picked up on the signs. Her lack of interest in spies was a dead give-away! And why oh why did I have to tease her by saying I was getting her "Grecian Formula" for Christmas?!?!
What a self-absorbed fool I was!!!!

It's been TWO days now, and not a peep. If anyone sees her, do let me know. Sad to say, I don't even know her last name. If I don't get right back to you, it's because I'm posting flyers on telephone poles all around Seattle.

For the record: she's probably 6" tall, gray with beady eyes, and a shimmering bluish-green in her breast and wing tops. She looks like many other pigeons, only there's something magic in her beady little eyes.

Frank Zappa

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