Considering the current atmosphere across this world, including, of course, the reverberations of a post-Sept. 11 global population and the swarm of hatred that fuels it all, I think of the Wolfman.

It’s not that hatred reminds me of my late friend, it’s exactly the opposite. There was a time when there was a Wolfman Jack hollarin’ and screamin’ and whisperin’ sweet nothings into the airwaves. That time is gone and it seems a shame now, more than ever since his death.

Escape. Release from worldly and personal pressures. Blind to the horrors and stark realities just for a few hours. That’s all Wolfman Jack ever had in mind for the experience between him and his listeners. “Ain’t gonna lay nothin’ heavy on ‘em,” he used to say to any one who asked what the hell he was doin’ on the radio.

Just after the hideous events of Sept. 11, 2001, I was as shocked, appalled and as frightened and angry as anyone who wasn’t a terrorist. Those first few weeks following the fall of the twin towers “were downers, baby.” I found there was no place or space in or outside of my head where I could get away from the black cloud that hung over every one in this country (except the terrorists, who secretly celebrated in their slimy sleeper cells). Then, I had a thought, and it saved me.

I have recordings of the Wolfman doing many things. I am fortunate to have a lot of old radio programs, having been a part of his radio world for a long time. But moreover, I am fortunate to have these recordings because they are the only remedies for escape that truly work for me. To hear Wolf alive and well and riffing and joking and flubbing lines is medicine for my weariness. To hear the Wolfman shouting along with Big Joe Turner singing, “Flip, flop and fly/I don’t care if I die” puts a soothing perspective on my condition-one that heals.

I sat in my studio for an undetermined amount of time. I wasn’t looking at the clock or even feeling time pass. I was gone, off into the world of “good time rock an roll,” where Wolfman always knew we all needed to be at one time or another. He had that notion way before the world changed into what it is today. Why? How? Maybe because Wolf knew that the world was always “this way.” The horrors of Sept. 11 were nothing new, really, just another dimension to all the heavy things that put us, as individuals, in need of a great escape. 

I say “individuals” because Wolfman never played to the crowd, per se. He played to each person who listened as an individual. And he made each person who listened believe that “da Wolfman” was there for him or her. It was a one-on-one experience, even when 50,000 watts of power were shaking the airwaves from Mexico to Maine. No individual ever felt da Wolfman was there for the numbers. Oh no, this was “our” escape, “just da Wolfman an you, baby. We are together, through all time, through all weather. It’s a relationship wit no beginning, no end, ‘cause you my lover and you my friend…”

Wolfman rambled, wallowed, wailed and cajoled. He was a wizard with mouth full of magic, all of which he performed with dead accuracy and all of which was a potent ingredient for helping the listener escape. To hear the wizard again, now, is to hear his timelessness. In fact, to hear him perform now is to feel the importance of his antics as never before. Where is the Wolfman when we need him most?

That’s the shame of it. I am fortunate to be able to share time with him still, but most of the world is unfortunate, unless they have the ability to put on a tape and hear any old show some way or another. Because, let’s face it, there isn’t nothing like the Wolfman out there now. There aren’t any voices speaking to individuals. There aren’t any voices sharing the beat and rhythm in a way that makes one understand that escape is an individual’s right. It is the time to regenerate, to build strength for upcoming battles. Escape is necessary.

You can turn on your radio, turn on any music, turn on to anything you like, but in this day and age you need mourn the fact that you can’t turn on Wolfman Jack and go with him to a space where there “ain’t nothin’ heavy to deal with.” That space is gone and we are all a little bit off balance because it is gone. You see, it may be wonderful to hear Big Joe Turner singing those lyrics, but there is a void in that recording these days, one we cannot fill-the presence of the ole Wolfman. That presence that allowed us to truly escape and that presence which delivered a strange and wonderful meaning from Joe’s lyric.

Flip, flop and fly
I don’t care if I die
Flip, flop and fly
I don’t care if I die
Don’t ever leave me
Don’t ever say goodbye

Every one misses you Wolf. Every one.

Check in often. I will.
Mars