Happy Birthday Tomo...
And so, happy birthday, my dear unknown friend.
May this day be the happiest of the month, maybe not of the year, but of the month will be enough. May your life be full of happy days, with or without Fonzie and a jukebox. (It might sound silly, but for several people on earth that would be the best of all things to come.)
Happy birthday, enjoy your peaceful rest and your slice of cake, sit back on your chair and smile all around you, probably unaware that your smile can brighten up a whole room. Pause for a second and try to hear me telling you “happy birthday”. You might think that you’ll have better things to do: partying, drinking, having fun. But, and here I speak with experience by my side, resting and trying to catch other people’s thoughts hidden in the silence can be the best beginning for a new year, one year more, one year, no fear, you’re not getting older, you’re simply…bigger.
And, speaking of so, you’re already big, in all senses.
Happy birthday, my dear unknown guitarist.
May this day be your favourite of the month. I wish you twenty-four hours of joy and freedom, a whole day of accomplishment and peace; for many are the things a man could desire, but not so many the things he could really enjoy once gotten.
Please forgive me if I speak of philosophy, but there’s nothing better than a frank thought to wish a good future to someone.
All the best! To you and your shadow, to you and your desires, to you and… the appendix of your heart, your guitar. May you play the soundtrack of my days forever and a day.
I wish you to smile.
And in this silly letter you might never read, but in which I am now putting more than all my English grammar knowledge (almost inexistent, in fact…), I do really want to wish you all the Whitney Houston lists in her song: I hope life ’ll treat you kind, and I hope you’ll have all you’ve dreamed of, and I wish to you joy and happiness, but above all this, I wish to you love.
And I will always.. thank you.
Thanks, again, for being that little coloured spot in several dark afternoons, thanks for your chords and riffs: they’re way better (in my opinion) than Solon’s rock-ish chaos. But that’s another story…
Thanks for the way you caress your guitar, and also thank you for convincing my father in buying one. It’s now locked in my wardrobe, never used except for a few attempts. But it’s there.
Thanks for being the happy side of 30secondstomars, for your funny faces, for your laughs during the interviews, for the expressions of your eyes, for the screams, for the jumps on stage, for the hugs and the two autographs on my albums. Yours are always written best. Thanks for the hidden attention you dedicate to each song. Thanks for interpreting so perfectly someone else’s dreams.
Thanks for putting up silently with the itch of your nose while I talk about you. Thanks for being such a character to allow me imitating you. And excuse me if I appear on the scene singing the Croatian Anthem, but that is way too much fun.
Thanks for all of this, thanks for the memories, thanks for playing the majorette on stage.
And so, happy birthday, my dear unknown friend.
…and thanks, again.
PROVEHITO IN ALTUM