The Ballad of Dave the Rave By Joe Hakim

John Wayne on his horse, John Wayne on half his horse, he says, holding his carrier-bag up to his chin as he loops the handles around his ears - he'll have you in tears, it's Dave the Rave, come to save the day. Then the bag drops by his side and he pulls a comb from his pocket and puts it in front of his mouth, and after a dramatic pause he bears his teeth and sings the theme from Jaws: Der-dun, der-dun... Dun ,dun ,dun, dun Dun ,dun, dun, dun it's Dave the Rave, come to save the day. I wonder where he comes from, I wonder where he goes: It's the three ugly sisters, he says, pointing at a new generation that he needs to entertain, he's never changed, still looks the same as he did years ago, so on with the show - it's Dave the Rave, come to save the day. Get off your milk and drink your horse, he says as he twitches and slaps himself in the face, and someone mutters: 'headcase' as he begins his flow, but they don't know, it's Dave the Rave, come to save the day.

Routines honed by countless repetition, he wanders the streets seeking a crowd to listen to all the things he has say - his own particular brand of wisdom, the jester of his own kingdom, it's Dave the Rave, come to save the day. Looking from a bus window, I see him conversing with fences like Don Quixote tilting at windmills preserved in madness, thrown out to take his chances, the flaming sage of unreason, the carrier-bag shaman, it's Dave the Rave, come to save the day. His story will go untold, the events that broke him are lost in time in the back of his mind, the comedy of tragedy destined to be mystery - I wish I knew his secret, wish I knew where he keeps it, it's Dave the Rave, come to save the day.

Copyright © Joe Hakim 2009

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