Licensed to Chill #6
June 27th, 2002 by freddie96
Hello again, my chilly little chickadees. If you are off to the Enchanted Garden this year, you may find something feels a little strange this time, something may seem just not quite right. Well, it’s nothing to worry about – what you will be feeling is merely my absence. Sadly, my self-imposed duty to surf the space-time continuum, righting ancient wrongs and spreading the vibe of The Big Chill through the cosmos has left me stranded in another time, another place.
Oh come now, no tears please. It’s true that I am not going to be with you in physical fashion, but my spirit will be there nonetheless, ready to guide you through the ups, ups and always of a weekend at the Enchanted Garden. If at any time you find yourself less than replete with elation, joy and buoyant exaltation, you just call out my name, and you know wherever I am, I’ll come running to see you agai-ain da da, da da dada. Excuse me; I was momentarily possessed by Carole King. Where was I? Oh yes, call out my name and I shall astrally project the solution to your problem. But before you summon me, please check this list of Enchanted Gordon’s Enchanted Garden FAQs. May your weekend be the most enchanted ever.
Q : Help me Enchanted Gordon, I can’t find my friends.
A : No problem. As Mrs Strauss said to young Levi when he came home without his trousers: just make yourself some new ones.
Q : Help me Enchanted Gordon, I can’t find my tent.
A : This is another common, but easily reconciled problem. Tents are notoriously nomadic, and will often wander far and wide. The best bet is to sit still and stop looking. Sooner or later your tent will wander past and find you.
Q : Help me Enchanted Gordon, I want to chill out at the Sanctuary stage, but I can’t get my boyfriend out of the dance tent.
A : You could negotiate with him – come to a compromise you are both happy with. Or you could go and chill out with some different people. But your best bet is probably to coax him out with a small piece of lettuce.
Q : Help me Enchanted Gordon, I think I’ve just seen a ghost.
A : Relax; what you saw was probably just the ripples of my aura as I flit around the festival in spiritual form. Unless this ghost was wearing a shiny silver bomber jacket, in which case it was just Morris.
Q : Help me Enchanted Gordon, I’m a musical purist with a particular interest in Belgian breakbeat space-techno, and Tom Middleton just played the theme to the Flumps. Who can I complain to?
A : You may not complain to anyone. You will, however, complain to everyone. All weekend. Won’t you?
Q : Help me Enchanted Gordon, a peacock just ate my muffin.
A : That was very naughty of you. Peacocks have a strict dietary code, which expressly forbids muffins. Even blueberry ones. The fact that yours was wrapped in cellophane, inside your rucksack in your tent is, frankly, no excuse.
Q : Help me Enchanted Gordon, I’ve been here three days and I have to go home tomorrow.
A : This is a tricky one. You could try clasping your hands together, grasping a few molecules of the Big Chill atmosphere. Put them in your pocket, and whenever the need for enchantment takes you, put your hands in your pocket, touch those molecules, close your eyes, smile, and you will be transported back here. You won’t half get some funny looks at the bus stop, but it’s a small price to pay.
Q : But I still don’t want to go home…
A : I know, I know, but there’s always Eastnor Castle. See you there…
x x Enchanted Gordon
